SAKI
by Lily224
Summary: Kenny and Karen have been accepted to SAKI, an elite private boarding school for the gifted, and their one way ticket out of poverty. However, everyone at this school has a story, and as Kenny learns more about his fellow students he begins to have doubts about the good intentions of this institution and the mysterious headmaster. AU
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to SAKI

**Hi, so long time lurker, first time poster here. This is a project me and my friend are working on to keep us occupied. There may or may not be a possibility of some form of comic or related fan art, but no guarantees.**

**This is an AU, obviously, and the basic principle is that all of the SP characters have grown up unaware of each other until they find themselves at the same school.**

**Reviews always welcome, and if you notice any errors feel free to point them out (sorry it's so short).**

**~Lily**

* * *

Kenny and Karen stood outside the grand gates of SAKI, hands linked. SAKI looked as elite as its reputation, with a ten foot high fence encircling the entire campus, and a large wrought iron gate warding off any visitors.

Kenny tried to see beyond it. There seemed to be a garden, and he could see the school building rising up in the distance. The sheer size of this place alone was enough to set him on edge.

He looked down at Karen. Her brown eyes were wide as she stared up at the entrance to the school. He tried to smile, to be encouraging.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded, eyes transfixed to the gate.

He stepped forward. To the side of the gate was a doorbell, attached to a black speaker. He rang, and waited for a response.

"Hello, welcome to Salvation Academy Kim Institute, how may I help you?" a cool female voice emanated from the speaker.

"Um, Kenny and Karen McCormick? We're the new boarding students,"

"Oh, yes, we're expecting you, please come in,"

The voice clicked off, and right on cue, the gates to the academy swung open.

They followed the path through the courtyard like garden, lined with rosebushes and orange trees, up to a wide marble stair case and double doors. The main school building was nothing short of a palace, made of gleaming marble, at least a dozen stories tall, with towers at each corner. The double doors at the front were grand oak, probably even hand carved. This school was loaded. Here there was another doorbell, and like before the doors swung open of their own accord.

The doors opened onto an enclosed garden, smaller than the outer courtyard, and decorated with stone paths and a central fountain. All along the perimeter a shaded walkway ran alongside the walls and countless doors led into the building.

Kenny must have stood there like an idiot for quite a while, just taking it in, before Karen grabbed him and started dragging him off towards the nearest door, labeled "Front Office".

The front office was surprisingly small given the size of the building. When Kenny and Karen walked in they were immediately gestured into a seat by a uniformed middle aged woman who seemed to have been waiting for them. Then they were left alone.

The room was bare, save for a few cushioned chairs. There wasn't even a desk. Kenny was about to go out and ask if there had been some mistake when the voice from earlier spoke.

"Hello, please make your way to the window."

"Window?" Kenny hadn't seen any windows.

"Look," Karen said.

The two watched as the paneling in the far wall slid aside, revealing a window about halfway off the ground. The glass was serrated, and Kenny could only make out the silhouette of a woman.

He approached the window. It was the same kind they had at zoos and circuses, with a hole in the bottom for exchanging money and paperwork.

"Um, hi,"

"Hello," the female voice came from a speaker embedded into the wall directly next to the window, "My name is Freya, welcome to SAKI. Unfortunately you have arrived during a business day so we can't select your electives at the moment."

"Business day?"

His question wasn't answered. Instead a well manicured hand shoved a pile of papers through the slot at the bottom of the window.

"These are your tentative schedules you'll be following for the rest of this week. Your electives will be handled by your counselor in due time. Please note both of you have been assigned to Dorm E and will be exempt from activities this weekend in order to acquaint yourselves with your dorm mates. Your belongings have already been moved in. There is no changing dorms."

Kenny turned over the paper in his hand. One looked like some kind of waiver, just more paperwork. He found his and his sister's schedules at the bottom. He was pretty sure there was a mistake in his, but Freya was still talking and she didn't seem keen to answer his questions. He handed Karen her schedule.

"Please locate the map of the campus on the back of your schedule. You will need that for your first few days. Now, if you please, classes are in progress so you will both need to make your way quickly to your classes. _On your own._ And remember," Freya's silhouette moved as she brought her hand to her eyes, "I'm always watching."

The panels in the wall slid down, cutting Kenny's sight off.

"She's pleasant," he grumbled.

"Sh," Karen said, gesturing to the speaker behind him.

Kenny shrugged sheepishly and the two left the office in silence.

Outside, Kenny grabbed Karen by the shoulder, halting her.

"Can you find your class on your own?" he asked.

Karen rolled her eyes, "Yes, mother,"

Kenny smiled, "Whatever, see you later kid,"

Karen was already walking away, "Sure, meet me after school?"

"You bet," Kenny called after her.

* * *

"Two B, Two B," Kenny muttered to himself as he trudged down the halls. This school was really something else. Shiny floors, wood panel walls, fancy bookcases everywhere. The last time Kenny had been in a place this nice it had been a court. Not his proudest moment.

He paused outside the door, double checking his map.

This was it, classroom Two B.

It was a fairly normal door. Wood. Looked a little creaky. He wanted to check his schedule again, make sure he was in the right place, but he stopped himself. He was just panicking. He was in the right place, everything would be fine.

He knocked.

"What?" came the impatient voice from the other side.

Kenny quickly opened the door, "Sorry, I, um, I'm new, and I…"

He trailed off as he caught sight of the class. Everyone wore same uniform as him, blue blazers, black ties and shoes. It was unsettling to say the least. Back home Kenny had, while not necessarily had the nicest, certainly had the most unique getup, with the bright orange snow suit and all. Everyone was sitting at long desks, two people to a table. And they were nice desks to. No visible vandalism or missing legs. Also, they were all being relatively quiet, which in any other high school wouldn't even be a plausibility.

All eyes were on him and Kenny felt suddenly self-conscious. You're wearing the same uniform, he told himself, you're just like everybody else.

It didn't help. He still felt like they could tell, like they knew despite everything, that he was just some poor kid from a no name town, that he didn't belong at their school.

"Ah, yes, McCormick, right? We were told to expect you, I'm Mr. Brown. Take a seat," Mr. Brown, a tall, thin, balding man, gestured to the stuffed room.

Kenny's feet started moving automatically, shuffling through the rows of desks. He couldn't see an open seat, just countless blank faces. Couldn't these people look somewhere else? Why did it have to be desks of twos? Kenny wanted more than anything to slink into a seat by himself, maybe by a window. There had to be a seat in the back—

He was yanked back suddenly, and barely able to keep from falling. He turned around ready to give it to the jerk, and came face to face with glaring green eyes.

"Sit," the other boy hissed.

It only took Kenny a moment to realize everyone was still watching him and he scrambled into the seat beside the boy, a seat he could have sworn wasn't empty moments earlier.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Broflovski?" Mr. Brown asked.

"No sir," the boy answered, voice flat.

Mr. Brown didn't seem to buy it, but thankfully dropped the subject and turned around to the white board behind him beginning a lecture.

Kenny took the moment to look at the boy next to him. He was short, with wild red hair and green eyes. He seemed to glare at everything, but he didn't seem any more aggressive towards Kenny then he was towards everyone else in the room. Kenny hoped.

Vaguely Kenny wondered what could ever make a person so angry at everything.

He turned back to the front of the room. He hadn't even checked what subject this was he was so worried about making it to the right class. He began shuffling through his papers.

"English," the boy next to him said without turning away from the front of the room, "Don't bother, it's your first day. You can borrow my book when we do readings later."

At last the boy turned to face him. He wasn't glaring anymore, which was a relief, but there was an equally intense look on his face, something more akin to curiosity.

"I'm Kyle." He said, "Kyle Broflovski. You?"

"Kenny McCormick."


	2. Chapter 2: Eric Cartman

**So chapter two is up much more quickly than expected (this will probably never happen again). I'm going to try and update once a week, but with nanowrimo coming up I can't keep any promises. This should (emphasis on 'should') be the average length that chapters will be now. Um, I think that's all for now. **

**Reviews and critiques always welcome :)**

**~Lily**

* * *

Kyle had had the first couple periods with Kenny, and had thankfully let Kenny sit by him in all his classes. Kenny was surprised, but not about to argue good luck. Especially since without Kyle he was fairly certain finding the dining hall would have been near impossible. The place was at the back of the school, accessible through a small hallway that shot off at an odd angle from the theater and drama department.

It was very ornate for a cafeteria, with a high ceiling and an army of banners, and very in theme with the whole old mansion feel the place had. Still, it operated like most other cafeterias, if most other cafeterias had real silver wear, and Kenny and Kyle had had to shove their way through the lunch line before grabbing a seat at one of many identical round tables at the far end of the hall.

Kyle Broflovski, as it turned out, was smart. And a smart ass. If Kenny could keep from messing this up, he saw a future of beautiful friendship ahead of them.

But in the meantime, Kenny had spotted something beautiful across the dining hall that required his immediate attention.

"Don't even bother McCormick. She's out of your league,"

Kenny turned his attention away from the busty blonde on the far side of the room back to his new found friend.

"You and your psychic crap."

"Not psychic. You're just obvious,"

"Whatever," Kenny said, beginning to dig into his own meal. Surprisingly good for cafeteria food. He kept an eye out for his sister, but minutes passed and all he saw were more awkward teenagers in navy blue.

"Do, middle schoolers eat separate?"

"Yeah, we keep them on the other side of the school. Why?"

"My sister's in the fourth grade."

Kyle nodded, "I understand. My brother Ike is in fifth grade right now. It's a little nerve wracking your first day, but you'll see her in dorms tonight. They never separate siblings."

"Yeah, I think Freya told us that,"

"Oh so you met her?"

"Er, not exactly, she was hiding behind a screen,"

"Typical," Kyle said, and muttered something about invasions of privacy. Kenny would have asked, but they were interrupted as someone drawled Kyle's name out.

"Hey _Kahl_. So there really is a new kid. What lies did you have to tell to make him hang around? Whatever he said kid, it's all lies, he's just desperate—"

"Fuck off, Cartman," Kyle said.

There was something wicked about this boy, Cartman, who had come to a stop behind Kyle. He was big, unhealthily so, to the point the buttons on his shirt strained to keep him in. His uniform was wrinkled and messy, shirt half untucked and tie hanging loose around his fat neck. His eyes glinted, and he gave them both a sinister smile.

Kenny watched him carefully, taking it all in, but kept his mouth shut for once. He was hopeful that Kyle might take care of this. He didn't know this guy and he didn't want to.

Cartman had no such reservation, and leaned over the table to whisper loudly in Kenny's direction.

"Listen, you can't believe a word he says, he's a filthy Jew and he knows it. Don't be tempted by whatever bribes he's offering you."

Kenny bit his tongue to keep from saying anything back.

"Screw you," Kyle grumbled, "I hope you know Garrison's on lunch duty,"

Whoever Garrison was, Cartman didn't seem keen on him. He grimaced and looked around the dining hall quickly, turning back to them long enough to flip them off, before walking away.

Once he was out of earshot, Kenny turned to Kyle, ready to joke about douchebags at school.

But Kyle had gone stiff, face still red with anger. His fists clenched and unclenched slowly at his sides as he breathed in and out slowly.

It was fascinating. Kenny had rarely seen anyone try so hard to restrain themselves. When his mom got angry, or his dad got drunk, they would get into a fight, fists and everything, without even trying to 'talk it out' or 'cool off'. And here was Kyle, sitting here trying so hard to keep in control. Part of Kenny wanted to laugh at the scene, but mostly he was worried.

"Dude, you okay?" he asked quietly.

Kyle let out a long breath, visibly deflating.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm fine, I just, Cartman."

"Seemed like a _great _guy,"

Kyle snorted and tried to suppress a smile, "You just met the resident fat ass and grade A asshole of our fine institution. I don't know how people like him get into this school."

"Is there a reason? That he's so…?" Kenny made a gesture with his free hand.

Kyle shrugged, now completely recovered, "Who knows."

* * *

It was just Kenny's luck that Cartman would corner him after fifth period, his last class of the day, and seemingly the only class he didn't have with Kyle.

Really, he just had the worst of it.

"Oh, hey, you're the new kid aren't you?" a slimy, and already familiar voice called.

There was no one else he could have been referring to. Kenny thought for a moment about just not turning around. Maybe he could get lost in the crowd of students rushing through the halls.

Before he could implement this particular idea though, Cartman was already upon him.

"It is you. Thought you looked familiar." Cartman came up and flung a chubby arm over Kenny's thin shoulders, Kenny almost buckling under the weight.

"Glad to see you've ditched the Jew. Let me tell you, Kahl is a lying, stealing, backstabber, and I knew someone as smart and clever as yourself wouldn't fall for such Jew trickery. Thank God I warned you in time,"

Kenny shoved the bigger boy's arm off him and even dared a glare in his direction.

"I am not ditching Kyle," he said, careful to speak slowly and clearly. There would be no misunderstandings here. Though whether or not Kyle would choose to ditch him was another matter entirely.

Cartman scowled, and Kenny thought that was the end of it. He turned to leave.

"Wait, I'm not done with you,"

Kenny kept walking and soon Cartman was after him, panting slightly as he tried to keep pace. The guy didn't know when to quit.

"Well, I'm done," Kenny told him.

"Too fucking bad. Honestly what's your problem asshole? Here I am just trying to be a good friend and you're blowing me off? Who do you think you are?"

The other kids were starting to notice now. They scrambled out of the way as the two of them walked by, ducking their heads and turning their backs. Kenny was on his own.

"Look, Cartman right? I don't have time for this, okay?"

"Oh I get it. You're a coward."

"No, I don't have time? Do you listen? Or is there fat clogging your ears too?"

"Oi! Where do you get off spewing that crap? I'm not fat. How does a little shit like you even get into this school? I bet you had to cheat your way in. I hope they fucking kick you out into the streets,"

It was stupid, Kenny knew, because Cartman was just talking shit and everyone knew it, but he couldn't help it. He stopped full when the words hit him, and he turned around to face the boy.

"Oh I see," Cartman said, "You did cheat didn't you?"

Kenny could feel the anger rising, red hot and fast. In the back of his mind, the rational part of his brain was screaming. He needed to calm down, or else he'd say something stupid. Cartman wasn't worth it.

Of course, the rest of Kenny didn't listen.

Before he knew what was happening he had Cartman by the collar of his shirt.

"Who I am and how I got into this school is none of your business. Fuck. Off."

Someone cleared their throat.

Kenny dropped Cartman in a heartbeat, horrified with himself for saying anything at all, and relieved, because Cartman had to be twice his size, and any longer and the other boy probably would have retaliated. He backed up and turned around slowly to face his savior.

Mr. Brown was standing, arms crosses, eyebrows raised in thinly disguised amusement.

"Mr. McCormick, Mr. Cartman. How unfortunate you chose to start an incident. How do you feel about detention?"

Cartman spluttered.

"But Mr. Brown," he whined, "New kid was attacking me, everybody saw,"

Mr. Brown sighed and nodded, "Yes, yes, I'm sure, now, everyone move along."

At once the students who had frozen around them when Kenny's temper snapped began to shuffle out of the hall, and after shooting Kenny one last glare, Cartman followed.

Kenny hung back. He really ought to explain himself. His temper wasn't normally a problem. Back home he'd been a fairly laid back kid. He even dared say fun. He knew he had a temper, he had found out last year. There were a lot of things Kenny had found out last year, a lot of things he wished he hadn't.

"Mr. Brown," Kenny started, when most of the crowd had cleared.

Mr. Brown held up a hand, halting him.

"Don't worry about Eric. I understand. Freya told me everything. But you should know I will not let you off again. As…aggravating as certain individuals can be, you do have to learn to get along with them."

Kenny nodded. In all honesty he could have hugged Mr. Brown. A detention on his first day of school would have probably killed him. This was supposed to be a new start, after all, and falling back into a pattern of detention every other day was supposed to be off limits. That was the deal, get good grades, do as told and he could stay in this place with his sister.

Oh crap. Karen.

"Uh, thanks, Mr. Brown, but I have to go to…do you know where the grade schoolers would be now?"

* * *

Kenny scanned the crowd of children nervously, cursing the uniforms. How long had it been since classes had let out? An hour at least. Even still, children of all ages in navy jumpers and blazers roamed Warner Hall. It was located directly off of the main courtyard and most grade school hallways were connected to it. Mr. Brown had said if Karen wasn't in the dorms, she was there.

But Kenny couldn't find her.

He roamed the marble hall, trying not to shove the kids out of his way in his impatience. This was ridiculous. He circled the hall for the fourth time, even paused to ask a kid who looked Kelly's age if he had seen her. Nothing. If she was here he wouldn't find her until this stupid crowd cleared out.

"Kenny!"

He whirled around. At the far end of the hall by the exit stood Kyle, who waved him over. Next to him, leaning against the wall looking small in all this madness was Karen.

Kenny rushed over, barely managing not to shove through the crowd. A string of apologies were already flying out of his mouth as he approached.

"Karen, I'm so sorry. Some jerk kept me from getting here, and the place is a maze,"

Karen chewed on her bottom lip, worried, "You didn't get in trouble, did you?"

"Don't worry, it's taken care of," Kenny told her.

Karen offered nodded her acceptance and Kenny took her hand as she shuffled closer. Karen had always been nervous in crowds.

"So this is your sister, I take it?" Kyle said.

"Yeah, thanks for watching her,"

"No problem," Kyle said, "I figured it was her. You guys look alike. Not the hair, obviously, but in the face. I'm meeting my brother here today. That's him right there, actually."

He pointed through the crowd to a boy making his way towards them. He was Kelly's age, maybe a little younger, with a shock of black hair, dark eyes, and an oval face. If Kenny and Karen looked alike, then Kyle and his brother couldn't have been farther apart.

"Hey Kyle,"

"Ike, this is Kenny and Karen. They're new. Kenny, this is Ike, my brother."

Ike offered a nod in their direction, but said nothing.

"So what dorm are you guys in?"

Dorms. Right. Kenny had forgotten about that, he'd been so busy.

"Dorm E," Karen said quietly from her hiding place behind her brother.

Kyle smiled, before realization hit him and his expression dropped.

"What is it?" Kenny asked.

"Well, the good news is, we're in the same dorm. Bad news, so is Cartman."

* * *

Kenny walked into his dorm room prepared for the worst. Kyle and Ike had had a club meeting, and they parted ways after showing Kenny and Karen to the dorm. The dorm, as it turned out, was in an entirely separate building, with a hall that connected it to the main building. It came equipped with a kitchen, a common room, and two separate halls. On the right, girls, on the left, boys.

Karen was upset with Kenny. He could tell because, despite how she was glued to his side in the large crowds of Warner Hall, she barely muttered a goodbye before disappearing down the girls' hall once they reached the dorm. It was his own fault really, Karen had always been shy and he'd just gone and left her in a strange place in the middle of a crowd for nearly an hour. He was going to have to make it up to her later.

Kenny's room was towards the end of the boy's hall. The entire dorm was eerily silent for a place where a half dozen teenage boys were supposed to live. It seemed everyone was like Kyle and Ike, at clubs or practice.

He opened the door to his new room slowly, praying he wasn't rooming with Cartman.

At first he thought it was empty. There were two twin beds, a desk on either side of the room, and a single window looking out onto the soccer field. It was all very plain and quiet. He sagged in relief, walking fully in the room and stretching, ready for an afternoon nap after the day he'd just had.

"Who're you?"

Kenny snapped to attention and spun around.

Sitting on the corner of one of the beds was a boy Kenny's age. He had been so still Kenny hadn't even noticed him. He had black hair and dark blue eyes. He was wearing grey sweats, with the emblem of SAKI on the front right side, and a pair of bright white socks.

"Sorry, didn't realize you were here. I'm Kenny McCormick. I guess we're roommates."

The boy nodded and gestured to the foot of the other bed, where a familiar worn suitcase had been propped up.

"They dropped it off this morning."

Kenny went over to his suitcase, well aware of the boy's eyes following him, and being sure to block his view.

He wasn't entirely sure there was anything in his suitcase of worth anyways, but either way they were his only possessions. He hadn't had much back home. A sweatshirt, a coat, some posters, and that was it, really.

He unzipped the case and pried it open. Laying within were a dozen or so sets of the uniform. Some polo shirts, oxfords, the grey trousers, blue blazer, the vest and even the gym uniform.

Kenny smiled to himself a bit. The headmaster, Mr. Kim, for all Kenny's initial doubts, was keeping his word.

"Got anything new?" the boy asked.

Kenny turned his head to look at the boy, who looked back knowingly. He knew exactly what Kenny had just found in his suitcase.

"Mr. Kim spoils the new kids," the boy said, flopping back onto his bed, "He's a nice guy, I guess."

"Yeah," Kenny said, turning back to his new uniforms and running his hand over the fresh fabric admiringly, "he really is."

"I'm Stan, by the way. I hope you don't mind being quiet. I hate studying with noise,"

"Shouldn't be a problem," Kenny said.

He wasn't sure if it was true. He'd never really studied before, and his old home had been in a constant state of chaos, but Stan seemed laid back, and Kenny thought he might be able to handle that. He liked to think he was generally laid back himself.

"The others don't get back until nine or so. If you want a hot shower, I suggest going now," Stan said.

Kenny nodded and quickly grabbed a pair of sweats, identical to Stan's, and a towel from the closet. He paused on his way out as a thought hit him. Stan was still lying spread eagle on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"You're not in any clubs?"

Stan's eyes locked on him even from his reclined position, and he shrugged, or tried to.

"Enough stuff happens around here to keep me busy." At Kenny's questioning look he continued, "You'll see what I mean."

Stan seemed oddly resigned at this, but Kenny didn't push it. No need to upset his new roommate so soon. Instead he grabbed the last of his things and hurried out the door.


	3. Chapter 3: Speed Dating

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved, etc. You're all awesome :)**

**This chapters a bit longer, and definitely wasn't the most fun to write, but I needed to get it out of the way. A lot of character introductions here, which reminds me, ALL the characters are from South Park. I'm trying to keep my OC count low (right now it's a total of 2 with Mr. Kim and Freya). Powder, Annie, Tammy, and Kevin are all SP characters. Powder and Annie are kind of prop characters though so I'm taking some artistic licence with their personalities. Tammy was Kenny's girlfriend in the episode "The Ring," and if you don't remember Kevin, he's the Star Wars kid.**

**Oh and for the record there will be no Kenny/Tammy in this. **

* * *

"Stanley Marsh, huh?" Kyle said, face scrunched in thought, "Yeah, of course I know him, but not well. We've never really had much reason to talk. He's always in the middle of things though."

Kenny paused midway through washing his face. He and Kyle were in the bathroom, they'd run into each other as Kenny trying to wake himself up by means of dunking his head under the cold faucet.

Kyle stood at the sink next to Kenny's, staring into the mirror as he thought.

"Middle of stuff?" Kenny prompted.

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, when there's trouble, if it's not Cartman, then it's Stan."

"Weird. He didn't seem like a trouble maker," Kenny said. He grabbed his towel and dried off before digging through his bag, yet another gift from Mr. Kim, for a toothbrush, giving Kyle time to think.

"He's not really a troublemaker, from what I hear. I think he used to play football or something. It's more like trouble just gravitates toward him. It's hard to explain. But I think dorm E has been broken into, suspended, and trashed more than any other dorm on campus since he got here."

Kenny chewed that over as he tried to flatten down his hair. So Stan was a trouble magnet. That could be interesting. Or really bad.

"So are you ready for today?" Kyle asked.

"What's today?" Kenny asked, turning to face the other boy.

"It's Saturday, and you're new. That means the entire dorm is confined to quarters for, ah," here he raise his hands and made air quotes, "'Team building exercises."

"Great. Confined to the dorms with Cartman. Just how I wanted to spend my Saturday."

"Tell me about it."

The conversation ended and the two finished up their routines, heading down to the kitchen for breakfast before dorm E was officially locked down.

* * *

The kitchen was a cheerful, yellow room, with stainless steel counters and a jumbo fridge. At its center there sat a table long enough to fit a couple dozen. It was piled high with paper plates and empty pizza boxes. Already there were several students roaming around, all in grey and blue t-shirts with large round SAKI emblems on their backs.

Kyle strode into the room with the ease of someone in their own home, pausing to say hi to a few of the other students, before making a beeline to the fridge.

Kenny hesitated in the doorway. No one was paying much attention to him yet, they were all too busy with their cups of coffee and half eaten breakfasts. He saw Cartman sulking in a corner, eyeing everyone in the room, who all seemed too happy to give him a wide berth. He spotted Karen on the other side of the room, sitting with a couple of older girls, looking for the most part like she was enjoying herself. He waved to her and allowed himself a small smile. It was good to see Karen talking, making friends.

"Hey, Kenny, get breakfast, the instructions for today will come in any minute." Kyle called.

Kenny jolted out of his thoughts and checked the clock hanging in the corner. Almost seven.

He made his way through the kitchen, trying to look more confident than he felt as the other students began to notice him. He tried his best to smile at them despite his nerves.

He yanked open the fridge door and peered inside.

"What do you guys have?" he asked Kyle as he began to shuffle through a large number of tupperware containers labeled 'mine' and 'do not touch'.

"Top shelf is communal."

The top shelf was stuffed full of fresh fruit, what looked like some kind of marinating meat, and a half empty carton of eggs. Not exactly what he'd had in mind, but it was better than what Kenny had at home.

He grabbed an apple and pulled out the milk.

He found a cup in one of the higher cabinets next to the coffee maker and Ike, who had decided to forgo chairs in favor of the stainless steel counters.

Kenny paused for a moment as he was pouring his milk to look at Ike. He was holding a steaming mug in one hand, balancing a book on his knee with the other.

"Are you drinking coffee?" Kenny asked incredulously.

Ike gave him a withering look, daring him to say something. Kenny wisely decided to finish pouring his milk and take a seat.

He found a chair, and had barely bitten into his apple when a kid came running into the kitchen

"Guys, Guys it's here!" he said, waving around an off-white envelope.

Kyle was there in moments, Kenny right behind him.

"Kevin! Kevin, stop waving it around and give it here," Kyle snapped at the overexcited boy.

Kyle finally managed to snatch it away from the boy and tear it open.

Inside was a thick series of pages, covered in beautiful handwriting, the kind on cards and diplomas. Kyle scanned the first few lines, Kenny reading over his shoulder, as their dorm mates gathered round, waiting for the news.

_Dear Dormitory E,_

_ As you are all well aware of by now, we have new additions to this fine academy, and as per tradition, we are to give them a proper initiation. This upcoming weekend will be spent getting to know your new dorm mates, as well as building up your team spirit. Your dorm mates should feel like your family while you attend this school._

_ Please take your seats at the kitchen table, and give this letter to the Dorm Father._

"The Father?" Kenny asked, "Who's that?"

"Me,"

Kenny looked up to see Stan holding out his hand expectantly. Reluctantly Kyle handed the letter over and slinked back to the table, shortly followed by the rest of the dorm who seemed equally disappointed by the turn of events.

Stan looked like he had just gotten out of bed. He probably had. His hair stood up at odd angles and his shirt was a crumpled mess. He hadn't even bothered with shoes.

Kenny ended up sitting next to the kid who had delivered the letter, an Asian looking brown eyed boy with a Star Wars watch, the kind you found in the kids section at Walmart. Karen sat on Kenny's other side, Kyle was across from him.

A hush fell over the room as everyone turned to watch Stan, who stood at the head of the table scanning the letter silently.

Kenny was just beginning to grow impatient when Stan began reading.

"Now that you're all seated please listen as the Dorm Father reads aloud. Underneath each of your chairs is an envelope, please use this time to retrieve it."

Stan paused and nodded for them to do as told.

Immediately everyone began scrambling. Kenny reached beneath his own chair and felt his fingers brush against stiff paper. He pulled the envelope free and turned it over in his hands. Across the front of it, to Kenny's surprise, was his name in curly gold lettering. He looked to his left and saw Karen's was the same way.

He worked the envelope open, careful not to rip it, and slid a packet of papers out of it. On the very top was a letter written in the same beautiful script as the one in Stan's hands now.

For Kenny, mail had never really been a good thing. It meant bills, and foreclosure notices, and notes from school. All of those had been important, sometimes they even had an impact on his life, but more than anything they were always bad news. It made Kenny hesitate for a moment to read it.

_Dear Mr. McCormick,_

_ I realize last time we met we did not have much time to speak, a situation I promise will be remedied in the coming months as you begin to adjust to life here at the Kim Institute._

_ The first thing I would like to do is thank you. Leaving your family and home behind was a difficult decision, especially with the new expectations being placed upon you, but you made the right choice. We here at the Salvation Academy Kim Institute will take care of you and prepare you and your sister a bright future. _

_ Second, I would like to welcome you to the Kim Institute. You may not know it now, but the friends you make here will last a lifetime. You and Karen both will have the experience of a lifetime learning with us here. I know life used to be hard for you, that your financial and home situation were strenuous, and your school records are anything but pristine, however all can, and will be forgotten, which brings me to my final remark._

_ Do not forget our arrangement. While you are here you will pass all your classes, stay out of trouble, and do everything you are told. I am not expecting straight As out of you, but anything less than a C is unacceptable. When I say stay out of trouble, I mean it. No detentions. No referrals. Certainly no fights. And NO inappropriate relations with ANY students. Your job is to study, not socialize (and yes I am very much aware of your previous exploits). Finally, you will do everything I ask of you, without question. Failure to comply with these basic guidelines will see you and your sister expelled and put back on the streets. It is a cruel fate, and one I wish to avoid, but getting you into this school was difficult enough. One toe out of line and I will have no choice in the matter._

_ Welcome to Salvation Academy Kim Institute (SAKI)._

_ Sincerely, Headmaster Kim_

Kenny stared down at the letter in his hands. He could feel his heart beating hard against his ribcage. This was the last thing he needed, a reminder of everything that could go wrong, and just when he was beginning to think this might be fun.

"You okay?"

Kenny looked up. Kyle was watching him, concern written across his face.

Kenny thought quickly.

"No. I just got a letter from the headmaster telling me no sex until I graduate or I'm expelled. Nothing about this is okay."

Kyle fell for it entirely, trying hard to suppress a laugh.

"No way, really? What else did it say?" The boy sitting next to Kenny asked.

"You aren't supposed to ask, Kevin," Kyle said, rolling his eyes at the apparent stupidity of his fellow students.

Kenny couldn't help smiling for real then. Even if what Mr. Kim was asking was beyond anything Kenny had done before, he couldn't say he didn't like this place. If there were people like Kyle, and Ike, and Mr. Brown here, then Kenny would give this a try.

"Has everyone finished their letters?" Stan asked.

When the general answer was finally yes, Stan continued reading.

"For today's activities the theme is speed dating."

Immediately people began talking, the girls whispering about who they wanted to be paired with and a few guys groaning (Cartman was particularly vocal). Kenny just laughed. Speed Dating. Perfect. Mr. Kim didn't even seem to want him looking at a girl and now he was sending him on a date.

Stan waited for the group to settle itself and began again, "As I was saying, the theme is speed dating. You will have five minutes with every person in the dorm, and when the alarm goes off, you switch partners. In your envelopes there is scrap paper. On it you will record any notes or preferences about the person you are talking to. Please be observant as the next activities teams will be picked based on this activity. Are there any questions?"

After a chorus of 'no's Stan gestured towards the door.

"Everyone grab your papers and move out to the common room. Apparently Freya has seen to the set up."

* * *

The common room was plastered floor to ceiling in pink wrapping paper and ribbons. The couch, the cushions, the TV, everything had been wrapped like birthday present, or probably more accurate a valentine's day gift. Flowers and hearts were scattered everywhere and sickeningly sweet music swelling in the background. It looked like the place had been glitter bombed by cupid.

The main attraction was a row of five tables for two, each decorated with a white lacy table cloth and a vase of flowers.

Stan picked his way across the room kicking paper wrapped pillows out of his way.

"All right, everyone take a seat.

Kenny grabbed a table first. He did _not_ want to have to be the one guy left awkwardly trying to find a seat. Karen stayed close by, and ended up at the table next to his, and to Kenny's relief Kyle sat down with him.

"Hey," Kyle said, keeping his voice low as Stan tried to maintain order between Cartman and an upset looking blonde girl on the other side of the room, "Be my partner?"

"Totally." In truth Kenny was relieved Kyle brought it up first. Sure, they'd spent time together, but a day really wasn't a lot of time and Kenny still felt uncomfortable about asking Kyle to hang around.

Kyle nodded and sat back quickly as Stan finally succeeded in making Cartman sit down, and returned to the front of the room.

"Alright, everyone have a seat? Good. When the bell goes off, you will begin talking to your partner. In five minutes the bell will ring again and you'll switch. You must go through one round with everybody, and no going to the same partners twice. Annie is handing out pens."

"Why aren't you doing this? If that rich bastard is going to make us do something so stupid, you should suffer too," Cartman said.

Stan sighed, and looked like he was about to argue, but in the end thought better of it and took a seat.

A shrill bell blared through the room.

Immediately the air filled with the sound of chatter.

Kenny looked down at his own papers. What was he supposed to write? He looked up at Kyle who was already scribbling away on his own paper.

_Very serious, _he started. Was that enough? Kyle seemed to be writing a whole lot. But what else was there to say, really, about Kyle?

Kenny thought back to yesterday, to walking into the classroom, he remembered, there had been something about Kyle that first day that had put Kenny ill at ease in the beginning.

He had been angry.

Suddenly Kenny had a lot more to write about.

* * *

The bell must have been off because there was no way five minutes had passed. Kyle and Kenny had just started talking when they were being crowded out of their seats and moved down the line.

Despite having already agreed to be Kyle's partner for the later project, Kenny did his best to actually talk to people. Kenny was trying to write as much as he could, if only for the fact he was pretty sure Mr. Kim would know if he didn't.

The first person Kenny ended up with was a blonde curly haired girl named Annie Fualk. She was nice enough, he thought, cute too, with sparkling blue eyes and a sweet smile. She talked quite a bit though, and really only seemed interested in complaining about things.

The next girl, however, was different.

She seemed a bit older than the rest, with highlighted hair and a heavy application of mascara. She had a friendly sort of face, and wore short denim shorts that showed off her legs and were most definitely not uniform.

"Hi, I'm Tammy."

"Kenny,"

Tammy grinned at him and tapped her pencil absently on the table, "So, tell me about yourself Ken."

Kenny's brain blanked for a moment. He searched for something worth telling her. He came up with nothing.

"That's fine, I can go first," Tammy said, and Kenny instantly liked her, "I'm from a small town. My favorite subjects are English and history, I'm on the tennis team, and I have an awesome boyfriend."

Despite himself Kenny felt a bit disappointed. Better luck next time, he supposed.

"Well, I'm from a small town too, so I guess we've got that in common," he said.

Tammy nodded, "Yeah. You like your hometown?"

"Hell no. That place was…" Kenny stopped himself just in time, making Tammy laugh.

"I know what you mean," she said, "I hated my hometown too."

Kenny went on to find out that Tammy Warner was a year older than him, but graduating this year because she was in 'program three', which seemed to be some kind of advanced curriculum course. She had been poor, and had seen the flyer for Salvation Academy on the bulletin board of her old school. She hadn't had any intention of applying, she didn't really qualify as gifted. However, two days into high school and she was miserable. So she applied.

"I don't know how I got in, but thank god I did. My old school…" she trailed off with a frown as the bell rang.

Kenny hadn't written anything down he'd been so caught up in listening to her talk. He wasn't sure what to think, hearing Tammy's story, but it made him feel somehow less alone. Maybe her story wasn't like his exactly, but it was close enough. They were two poor kids who'd found themselves in a place they'd never believed they'd end up. He would to talk to her more, definitely.

Everyone shuffled around and when Kenny sat back down he was across from a red head.

"I'm Sally Turner," she said, "call me Powder."

Powder was a pale, and straight faced girl, who didn't talk much and was obviously not interested in any of Kenny's attempts at conversation. Kenny got nothing out of her that he could write down, and nearly cheered when the bell finally rang.

Next was Ike, who essentially sat there staring Kenny down for the whole five minutes. He was, apparently, "far too intelligent to be wasting his time with these ridiculous games."

Next it was Kenny's turn to sit silently as Cartman spent the entire five minutes sneering and throwing insults at everyone in the room.

Stan stopped Kenny from sitting with Karen, "No siblings. Sorry."

Karen frowned and looked to Kenny, who smiled reassuringly, before going to sit with Annie.

Stan took his seat across from Kenny and for a while they sat there just staring at each other.

Finally Kenny couldn't take it.

"So this place? Do you like it here?"

Stan looked surprised, but covered it up quickly. "Yes. I think. It's different. But it's good I guess. Mr. Kim does a lot for us."

"I see."

They fell into another silence. Kenny fidgeted in his seat, tapping his pencil, shuffling his feet. Stan looked calm as could be, and certainly not about to break the silence.

"So you're Dorm Father?"

"Yeah. I just make sure no one gets hurt, if you have questions about stuff," Stan shrugged, "ask me, I guess. I mean, you'll get your own school family soon."

"School family?"

"Yeah. A mom, dad, probably siblings, they're just other students who act as, like, a support group I guess you could say. Everyone's required to have one—"

The bell rang.

"I'll tell you about it later," Stan assured, before making his way to another table.

The Asian boy from earlier practically tripped over his own feet as he made his way over. He smiled widely at Kenny as he finally managed to get onto the chair.

"Hey welcome to SAKI. I'm Kevin. Kevin Stoley. So how are you liking it so far?"

"Pretty cool I guess."

"A little weird?" Kevin said, like he knew exactly what Kenny was thinking.

"You could definitely say that," Kenny said, relaxing a little. Kevin seemed fairly harmless.

"Don't worry," Kevin said, "it gets easier. I remember my first day. And my initiation too. It was Star Wars themed. I actually got to use a real lightsaber. You've seen Star Wars right?"

"Yeah."

"It's my favorite movie."

Talking to Kevin was a lot like talking to a little kid. He got really excited about pretty much everything and was just generally nice. A bit naive (Cartman had apparently been able to convince him it was okay to go to class in cosplay. Twice.), but definitely nice. The two of them spent the rest of their five minutes talking nonstop about their favorite scenes in Star Wars and trading quotes back and forth.

Kenny wasn't actually a huge Star Wars fan. He'd seen it, and like all ten year olds thought it was the coolest thing in the world. He and his older brother probably spent an entire summer fighting with sticks in their backyard.

But then Kenny discovered girls.

Kevin, however, was bringing Kenny's inner ten year old back out. He actually was sort of enjoying the conversation, and was disappointed when the bell rang again for the last time and Stan made them all part.

* * *

"All right so here's how it's going to work." Stan said. They were back in the kitchen, with everyone seated. "You're all being split into groups of two that you pick. After you've been split into groups I'll give you your instructions."

Cartman waved his hand wildly, like he was in class.

Stan sighed. "Yes, Cartman?"

"I want to pick first."

Stan looked like he would rather be anywhere else than dealing with this and looked around the room at everyone, as if to say that he tried.

Cartman grinned. "Kyle,"

"What? No fucking way,"

"I want to be partners with Kyle. That's final. I'm not working with anyone else."

"God damn it Cartman, can't you be reasonable for once in your life?" Kyle asked.

Cartman scrunched up his face and began to wail, "But I wanna—"

"Quit it, all of you. Kyle, I'm sorry, you're taking one for the team."

Kyle swore and sat back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Kenny," Stan said, turning to face him, "you have a preference?"

Kenny thought about it for a few moments. Actually he did have an idea of who he wanted to work with.

* * *

"Well, this is stupid." Kevin said. He was kneeling on the floor, searching under the bed of dorm room three. When he found nothing he stood back up and turned to face Kenny, who was rifling through the desk drawers on the other side of the room.

"You'd think this would be a little more exciting," Kevin said.

Kenny couldn't have agreed more. When they'd been sent on a romantic scavenger hunt he thought it at least would be interesting, but instead it was frustrating. Freya had managed to (somehow) decorate the rest of the dorm while everyone was busy speed dating. The clues given to them were useless, and finding the romantic items alluded to in them was impossible when the entire dorm was a pink and heart littered mess. Plus, Kenny was sure that, if they hadn't killed each other, Cartman and Kyle must have been light years ahead of them.

"What's a corsage anyways?" Kevin asked, taking a seat on the pink wrapped dorm bed.

Kenny sighed, and slammed the desk drawer shut, "It's like, a flower or something."

A scream pierced the air.

Kenny and Kevin jumped, their eyes locked for a moment as they realized where it came from, and then they were sprinting out the door.

* * *

They found Stan and Annie in one of the girls rooms. Annie was pale, stricken looking, hunched over on the bed and being fawned over by Tammy on one side of the room. Kyle and Cartman had already arrived and even now the rest of the dorm was beginning to fill in.

"What happened?" Kenny asked, going to join Kyle.

"Dunno. Heard the scream, came running. Annie's pretty shaken up though."

It was true, the girl was in tears.

That was when Kenny caught sight of Stan, standing alone in the corner of the room looking incredibly guilty.

Kenny made his way over.

"Hey man, what's going on?"

Stan looked at him and grimaced, like the mere idea of explaining was causing him pain. "It's my fault."

Kenny looked between him and Annie. Somehow he didn't think Stan was responsible for giving the girl a nervous breakdown.

"I," Stan ran a hand through his hair nervously, "I, this stuff, it happens around me man."

"What stuff?"

Stan sighed again, "Just let me show you."

Stan stood up, grabbed the desk, and began pushing it to the side. Kenny watched as the desk moved inch by inch reveal a ventilation shaft. Its cover was gone, leaving gaping black hole at least two feet wide and high.

"Some guy came out of this thing when Annie was looking for our clue. Scared the daylights out of me. And her."

"You're kidding me."

"I wish."

Kenny knelt down and peered through the shaft. It looked just big enough to fit a person. He leaned forward a bit, and tilted his head. If he listened carefully he thought he could hear something like scrambling coming from somewhere in the darkness.

"Did the guy come from there?"

Kenny turned around. Kyle was standing there, looking on with a strange glint in his eye. It was the same look he'd gotten yesterday, when he'd first seen Kenny. It was like he was piecing together the answers to a puzzle that only he could see.

Kenny nodded and turned back to the vent.

Now there lay a question before them. He was waiting for someone to bring it up. He was surprised Kevin was keeping quiet. And Cartman for that matter. Everyone seemed too busy trying to guess what had happened, or, if you were Stan, trying to stave off questions.

Finally Kenny couldn't keep it in.

"So are we going to check this out or what?" he asked.

Everyone in the room stilled.

Kenny looked around. They were all looking at him like he was mad.

"Well I mean, there's no cover, and we don't want this guy coming back. And if we want to know what happens…" he trailed off as their stares simply continued.

"Are you…serious?" Stan finally asked.

"Um well, I just thought—"

"I'm in," Kyle said.

"Me too," Stan was quick to follow.

Cartman looked between the three of them. "You three, are going to get yourselves killed."


	4. Chapter 4: Electives

Kenny was a little surprised at Kyle's eagerness to jump on board with the entire idea. He seemed like a rule abiding type, really. After some arguing, it had been decided Kenny, Kyle and Stan would be the ones to investigate. Cartman had brashly stated he was the best for the job, but Kyle was quick to point out that his weight would be an issue. So now Cartman sat in the background scowling, with the job of keeping the masses under control, as Kenny prepared to descend into the black.

By now the entire dorm had found their way to the room, and they all looked on anxiously. They kept their distance for the most part, while Annie gathered a small crowd reciting her story for the thousandth time. Karen was the only one to come forward, with Powder by her side.

"We should really tell a teacher," Powder said, with a meaningful look in Stan's direction. She didn't seemed overly concerned however, and made no move to do so as Kenny knelt by the gaping hole in the wall and tried to figure out how to best get in.

"You know," Kyle said, kneeling down next to Kenny to get a better look at the vent, "I don't think this thing is real. I'm pretty sure our school doesn't have a ventilation system like this."

"That's reassuring," Kenny said.

Stan watched over them, his earlier nervous breakdown seemed checked, for now.

Kenny sent a last grin to Karen, who watched the proceedings from behind Powder, before crawling into the vent. It was a tight fit, and it took him a few tries and uncomfortable wiggles to figure out how to move. He heard the other two behind him, and, after calling to make sure they were okay, began the slow journey.

As he moved forward, he thanked God he'd never been claustrophobic. It was suffocating and so dark he might as well have closed his eyes. He moved, inch by inch, clothes sliding against the smooth surface of the vent, slipping him up more than once. Doubts crept up on him suddenly. This had been a stupid idea. He should have left it alone. The only thing that really kept him from turning around was the fact he couldn't. The walls closed in on all sides. Gradually, almost so that he didn't notice, it began to open up.

Kenny found himself slowly able to lift up off his stomach and it began to lighten up as he continued forward.

"Guys, I think I see light," Kenny said.

From behind him there was muffled muttering. He took that as an affirmative to check it out and surged forward.

"Holy crap!"

Kenny lurched forward as the vent took a sharp downward slant. His hands scraped against the interior, trying desperately to slow himself down. Someone slammed into him from behind and he lost whatever small grip he had had and went flying through the darkness.

Slamming into the wall face first was actually somewhat less painful than Kenny thought it would be. At least he wasn't dead. He wasn't always that lucky. And now he thought he could definitely make out a light, or maybe he'd hit his head to hard.

"Kenny?" he heard Kyle say from nearby.

"I'm good."

"Me too," Stan's voice was muffled through the darkness.

Calmer now, Kenny noticed something. The wall to his right appeared to almost glow. It was a low glow, but it was definitely there. He reached out a hand and hesitantly gave a soft shove. The surface shifted beneath his fingers. Bracing both hands against the wall, he pushed and the wall gave way, popping out of place and clattering to the ground beyond.

Light flooded Kenny's senses and he scrambled out of the shaft, shielding his eyes and glad for the fresh air. He heard the other two tumble out behind him. For a while they all stood there, catching their breath.

"What are you doing here?" a French accent cut through the silence.

Kenny whipped around, flinching away from the light as he tried to make out the approaching figure.

When his eyes finally adjusted he found a boy about their age, average height, ragged appearance, with a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. His uniform, or what was left of it, had faded to a dull grey and been worn through in multiple areas. What must have once been his tie was wrapped around his head and one fingerless gloved hand flexed as he prepared to move at a moment's notice.

As Kenny took this all in he also paused to look at where they were. It was a low ceilinged, dimly lit room that must have been somewhere beneath the building. It looked like it had been dug out by hand. In one corner a pile of rags passing for a bed lay next to an assortment of scrap metal and tools that looked suspiciously lethal.

"We, uh," Kenny jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the vent, "We're from dorm E?"

The other boy gave a derisive snort and pulled out a box of matches. In one long fluid movement he lit the cigarette. He inhaled, exhaled softly, then gave them all a critical look. He decided they were apparently safe, and approached.

"What is it you want? I don't have all day."

"I um—"

"You're the Mole." Kyle said suddenly. Kenny turned around to see Kyle, face a picture of awe. "I've heard of you. You're a legend."

"I've never heard of him." Stan said, casting a suspicious glance at Mole and his cigarette.

"He ran off first day of his school term. Supposedly the Mole uses secret tunnels underneath the school. He survives off of scraps in the kitchen and spends his days gathering intel on the academy. If you can find him, he's supposed to know everything."

The Mole looked appalled, "I do not survive off of kitchen scraps."

"Sorry,"

"Look," Kenny said, "The point is, you broke into our dorm through these shafts or whatever and—"

"That was not me,"

"Then who could it have been?"

"We have an intruder in the school."

"Not possible," Stan said. "Someone would know. We've got security camera's everywhere."

Here the Mole scowled, and gestured for them to follow him. He led them to the far side of the room where cork boards had been hoisted up and mismatched desks and file cabinets were scattered about. He pointed them to a low table littered with what looked like blueprints and maps, as well as several stubby pencils and colored tacks marking out specific locations.

"It was not me. There's been a security breach," the Mole said, gesturing to a particular layout of the school littered with symbols and illegible French script.

Kyle seemed to understand it, because he rushed forward and bent over the desk, examining the maps and codes and nodding to himself.

"Freya didn't mention this," he said, tapping a particularly bad looking red symbol on a layout of what Kenny thought looked like the main building.

The Mole swore violently in French at the mention of Freya's name.

"She's a bitch," he told Kyle, "She's constantly blocking my investigation. Of course she wouldn't have brought it up. Didn't think it was anything important until they saw this," Mole tapped a blueprint of another unrecognizable building. Kyle nodded.

"So, what's going on?" Stan asked what Kenny had been thinking.

"Someone broke into the school," Kyle said, "About a week ago. But they've been laying low. There isn't much activity. Until yesterday, anyways."

"And we trust this guy? Who lives in a cave? Under our dorm?" Stan said, making a meaningful gesture at the Mole, who scowled and called him something rude in French.

Kyle bit his lip nervously, "Well, technically the Mole is a part of Dorm E?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Christophe, also known as the Mole, pleasure to meet you, Dorm Father." The Mole held out his hand with a smirk.

"I can ask Freya to run a background check if you want," Kyle said, "She can verify who you are, right?"

Mole scowled but nodded.

"So," Kyle said, "we know it wasn't Mole who broke into the dorm—"

"We are _assuming _he didn't," Stan said.

"—so who did? And where are they now?"

The group fell silent as the implications of what was just said set in. Kenny looked up on instinct. He'd left Kelley in the dorm, what if the guy was still there?

A shudder passed through the walls, shaking dirt from the ceiling.

They tensed and moved closer together. Mole grabbed something suspiciously gun like from off the edge of the table.

"You led it here," Mole hissed.

"We thought it was you," Stan shot back.

The noise grew closer. An unnerving scuffle. The sound of something struggling.

"School doesn't have rats does it?" Kenny asked hopefully.

"It's a multimillion dollar institution. Somehow I doubt it." Mole said.

The noise fluttered through the walls, surrounded them. It was impossible to tell where it was coming from. One moment it was above them, the next in the wall, passing through the floor.

A loud grating noise filled the air by Kenny's head. He jumped and spun around coming face to face with the wall.

"It's getting closer," Mole muttered.

The group tensed, eyes scanning to the walls. The shuffling grew louder. Louder still. Then, suddenly, everything fell silent.

The wall on the other side of the cave crashed in and a swarm of men in black came pouring into the Mole's layer. Mole swore.

"What the hell?" Stan said, nearly screaming, as the sound of heavy boots and shouting filled the room.

"Freya," Kyle said darkly.

"Everybody put your hands up!" a man, who must've been in charge shouted through a megaphone. The boys all exchanged looks, and slowly raised their hands.

As the dust settled they were able to make out more fully what they were facing. An entire ensemble of twenty to thirty men decked in bullet proof vests and visors, all with guns trained on them.

"Thank you boys," a new voice, this one belonging to a woman, was heard clearly through the debris.

The man with the megaphone began shouting at his men, sending some forward, and dispatching a group to search the tunnels. When he finished, he turned on the boys.

"You four—"

"That's quite all right Yates," the woman said, and Yates backed down with a scowl, "Well I have to say I'm disappointed. Especially in you Kyle, being caught so easily. It's a disgrace. Though, I do have to thank you for leading us straight to this one here. We've been trying to catch 'The Mole' for years now."

"This is Freya?" Kenny guessed. He couldn't actually see the woman anywhere, but he definitely recognized the voice as the one from reception.

Kyle nodded grimly.

"Hello Kenneth!" the woman chirped, "Don't worry we won't hold you responsible for this incident. Now, why don't you all behave while my boys escort you out."

The nearest guy to them grinned and hoisted his gun up a little higher. Kenny suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

* * *

Nobody gave them answers and that was the end of the story. Kenny got escorted straight back to the dorm, told that none of this had ever happened as far as he was to be concerned, and left to stew in confusion and anger.

When Kyle asked why they weren't looking for the real security breach the swat guys had the nerve to look guilty about it, just as Freya simultaneously informed them that there was no security breach, and even if there had been it wasn't their business.

"Bullshit," Kyle told them later after they'd been confined to the dorm for reckless behavior, "that stuff Mole showed us, that was the real deal."

It turned out Cartman had been the one to snitch, which, in retrospect wasn't all that surprising, but it still made Kenny want to hit the other boy. Cartman for his part merely sneered at them as they were led back to their respective rooms.

Freya had confined them to dorms, with the promise not to tell Mr. Kim if they caused no more trouble. Kenny couldn't exactly afford to let Mr. Kim know about this little incident, so had wisely accepted the punishment.

The dorm confinement really wasn't too big of a deal, but Kyle seemed to despise it, and spent all Sunday in a bad mood, to the point Kenny started actively avoiding the guy. Stan was oddly resigned, and generally depressing, and so Kenny ended up avoiding him too. After some thorough mocking and racist comments, Cartman, along with the rest of the dorm, went out to do whatever it was kids here did on weekends. This left Kenny with no one to talk to and nothing to do for twenty-four hours.

It was a relief when Monday finally came.

"Anyone see Kyle?" Kenny asked as he entered the kitchen. He scanned the room for the redhead with no luck.

Tammy, already at the table and doing schoolwork, shook her head and pointed towards Stan, who was wallowing in a corner with a cup of coffee.

Kenny made his way over.

"Is Kyle—"

"Got called down to the office," Stan said darkly.

"You don't think Freya told, do you?" Kenny asked, already feeling guilty. It had been his idea, after all. It wouldn't be fair for Kyle to be the one in trouble.

"Nah, she's too fond of Kyle to do that. And I doubt Mr. Kim would count it against us if she did. Hardly the worst thing that's ever happened."

Kenny nodded even though he had no idea what Stan was referring to.

"Finish eating, we've got to get your classes picked out."

At that Kenny perked up. He had been waiting for this for three days. He shoveled down the last of his food and grabbed his bags.

* * *

Scheduling was done at guidance, which was crowded with uncountable amounts of junk, all belonging to the mellow mannered Mr. Mackey. He was a tall, thin, middle aged man, who looked over his paperwork with the occasional "M'kay," as Stan and Kenny sat in two chairs across from his desk, waiting to be acknowledged.

The junk, which consisted of broken toys, scrap paper, random plastic bags and something that smelled awful, crowded in on them no matter where they turned. Kenny was kept busy trying to avoid being crushed by a mountain of children's books stacked precariously behind his chair.

"M'kay, Mr. McCormick," Mackey finally said.

Kenny cautiously turned away from the mountain ready to crumble down on him and gave Mr. Mackey his best smile, as if they hadn't been waiting for half an hour in a god awful stuffy room.

"We're going to start you out on Program I, m'kay?" Mackey started, "Which means we really only have the core classes to deal with, though you do get some options. What are your preferences? Any interests?"

Kenny opened his mouth but no reply came out. He honestly had no idea. Despite having waited for this, now that it was before him, he wasn't sure. Nobody had ever asked before. School had always been just something he had to do. He'd never really done anything he liked.

He remembered once he'd sung on street corners. And like everyone in the neighborhood, he'd been on the baseball team. But that didn't really count, in his mind.

"I don't really know."

"M'kay, well why don't you look at this,"

Mackey slid a flyer across the desk.

Kenny scanned through it. There had to have been a hundred classes on there. Fencing 101, Acrobatic Arts, Extreme fishing. Kenny's head was spinning with all the options. How was this supposed to help?

"Take art with Greco." Stan said quietly.

Kenny scanned down the list to find there was indeed a basic Art and Drawing class with a Mr. Greco. Compared to the rest of the list it seemed rather tame. He gave Stan a thankful smile.

"Okay."

"M'kay, now you just need—"

Kenny caught sight of something on the list.

"Self Defense. That's a beginner class, right?"

"Huh?" Mr. Mackey peered over the table. "Oh, are you sure."

"Yeah," Kenny nodded. He'd known when he'd talked to Mr. Kim that SAKI would be a school unlike any other, but this was beyond perfect. He'd been looking for something like this for a long time. Kenny, and more importantly Mysterion, needed to know how to fight. Street brawling wouldn't cut it anymore. Especially if Mr. Kim meant what he had said when he'd offered Kenny this deal.

Stan looked curious but kept his mouth shut as Mackey began to fill out the rest of Kenny's schedule.

"M'kay, you'll have Algebra II and English II on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Biology and Modern History on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturday mornings. Electives every other day, plus French lessons Wednesday afternoons. And for PE we'll put you in Survival Training. You could technically drop it as Self Defense is a PE class, but I wouldn't suggest it. You need Survival to move to Program II."

"Program II?"

Mackey halted everything he was doing and stared at Kenny. "Your Patron hasn't explained it?"

"He doesn't have one yet." Stan broke in.

"Didn't you do Dorm Bonding?"

"We were…" Stan looked away shifty eyed. "interrupted."

Mackey gave a suspicious "M'kay" and let it slide. He handed Kenny his schedule and another poorly printed map, with instructions on how to get to class that involved too many left turns and staircases to remember.

"And make sure you have a patron by tonight, m'kay? They need to sign off on your schedule."

He then ushered them out of the office with a rambling about other students, and wasting time, and irresponsibility.

When they were finally in the hall Stan turned to Kenny with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I thought Kyle would've told you."

"Yeah, well, haven't had much time to talk. What are these Programs everyone keeps going on about? Grades?"

"There like levels, I guess, based on your accomplishments and classes. Program I means only two electives, no dress down days, no clubs or teams, and no going off campus."

Kenny frowned. That was rather strict.

"I mean," Stan said, "It's cool. No one ever stays in Program I long."

Kenny decided Stan obviously had no idea what kind of grades Kenny managed back home.

"And Patrons?" he asked.

"Patrons sponsor you," Stan's reply was instant, obviously something he'd recited before, "They're like your school parents. They're responsible for helping you get to class, signing paperwork, keeping an eye on your grades. This school's all about being student run and stuff. If a student could possibly do it, then they probably are."

"Could you…?" Kenny trailed off.

"Nah, sorry, my grades aren't good enough," Stan said. "But Kyle could. He's Program IV."

"Is that high?"

"The highest. Kyle's one of the smartest kids in this school." Kenny felt his hopes sink a little. "I think he already has a kid he sponsors. But don't worry, if you ask I'm sure he'd sponsor you too."

Kenny nodded but he'd already decided against asking Kyle. He didn't want his new friend responsible for his pathetic grades. Kenny had never been good at school, but it sounded like Kyle was a natural. No need to bring that down.

"New recruit?" someone interrupted Kenny's train of thought.

He turned around. Walking towards them was a tall, dark, brooding boy with blue eyes. Flanking him was a brown haired boy, the one who'd spoken. He was average, chubby, and didn't seem to know how to tie his tie. On the other side was a clean cut looking guy, African American, with a custom tailored blazer, and a look on his face that said he wished his friend had kept his mouth shut.

Stan let out a long sigh. "Kenny, meet Dorm F."

"Welcome," The black kid inclined his head stiffly, in a sort of formal greeting, which Kenny returned with his own awkward nod.

"Token! Don't be nice to the enemies!" The brown haired boy said.

Kenny turned to Stan. "Enemies?"

"Dorm rivalries." Stan said. "It's stupid. And between Kyle and Ike we beat them in academics every year. They're all morons. Except Token. You should've been one of us man."

Token smiled slightly, but his reply was cut off by his brown haired friend.

"Token's ours!"

"The annoying one is Clyde." Stan ignored Clyde's pouting protest and continued, "The tall one's Craig. He's an asshole."

Brooding Craig proceeded to flip them off.

"So what'd you guys do this time?" Stan asked.

"What'd we do? What _you_ do? You know the school went into lock down Saturday right?" Clyde asked.

Kenny gave let out a nervous laugh. "Sorry. That was my bad."

Clyde narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Carrying on the tradition?"

"Huh?"

"That's enough talking for today," Stan broke in, grabbing Kenny and steering him in the opposite direction as he called over his shoulder, "Have fun in guidance Craig!"

Craig flipped them off one last time before they turned the corner and the Dorm F boys were out of sight.

"What was that about?' Kenny asked when Stan finally let go of him.

Stan grumbled under his breath, barely audible, and Kenny could make out the words 'assholes' and something about funding.

"Huh?"

"Dorm F man. I mean, Clyde's a nice guy. Mostly. But really sometimes I think he takes this dorm stuff a little seriously. Not as bad as Cartman but still," Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just do not want to deal with them today."

Kenny nodded and decided not to push it further. Everything about the way Stan was standing and squeezing his eyes shut screamed irritated. Instead Kenny asked for and received much more useful directions to class and took off for Algebra II.

* * *

Kyle had a problem. Well Kyle had lots of problems, actually, but normally he found himself able to cope. Most of the time.

But not today. Today his problems were different. They were monumental, actually.

Because Freya had sent him a letter.

Of course, this wasn't unusual. Freya was always sending Kyle letters. The woman seemed to derive a certain amount of joy from torturing him and he had grown used to it over the years. Every time letters were sent to the dorms, Kyle always received one from her. Normally they were filled with mockery and general teasing. Sometimes she'd go one about his grades, other times about his lack of social finesse, and when she was feeling particularly funny, about his criminal record. Which he didn't have. He definitely didn't have a criminal record. Well, he was mostly sure he didn't have one.

But this letter was different. He'd received it during Kenny's dorm initiation. That had been a fascinating day, to say the least. Kyle had been with Cartman when they heard Annie scream, and like everyone else they had rushed down to view the commotion, but something else had happened as well.

Kyle had seen something.

Someone, actually, and it definitely wasn't the Mole. It was an unfamiliar face with an unfamiliar gait lurking in the corners of their dormitory, seen only briefly, and forgotten as soon as the scream had been heard.

But now that he'd had time to slow down, think, he began to worry. The stranger in the dorm had been wearing the uniform, but it wasn't a student Kyle knew, and after everything that had happened, Kyle was beginning to grow more than annoyed with the fact that Freya was insisting nothing was going on.

That wasn't even the worst of it. Kyle still didn't know what had happened to the Mole.

The Mole was more than a legend at SAKI, he was practically a living ghost. Kyle had known the moment he heard the story it was true, unlike many other rumors floating around. Ever since then Kyle had kept his eyes open, had waited for any sign that the legendary master of espionage really did live in the school. It was almost like a dream to meet him. And now the boy could be anywhere Freya decided to send him.

Which led him back to the letter Freya had sent. There had been no teasing, no casual language, just:

_Dear Mr. Broflovski,_

_Please report to the headmaster's office Monday morning, seven o'clock._

_Signed,_

_Freya, Head of Security and Intelligence_

It was completely and utterly unlike her. Kyle's first thought had been that Mr. Kim was having him expelled, but for what, Kyle hadn't a clue. He'd been doing everything Mr. Kim had told him. But knowing that made it worse. Now he combed through his memories of the past few months desperately, trying to find something, anything that he could have done. It was driving him mad.

His fear that he was about to be given the worst news of his life multiplied tenfold when he stepped into the waiting room and saw Eric Cartman sitting in the chair beside the door to the office.

"Cartman," Kyle said tersely, as he took a seat in the chair farthest away.

"Broflovski," Cartman mimicked.

The only other person in the waiting room, a girl, lifted her head long enough to give Kyle a once over, and returned to her magazine with disinterest.

"What did you do?" Kyle asked.

"I didn't do anything, it was you and McCormick who caused problems."

Kyle almost said something. He was, admittedly, not always as patient as he should be, but especially not around Cartman.

Fortunately he was stopped as Freya's voice came over the intercom. "The Headmaster will see you now."

The door to the Headmaster's office slid open automatically and Kyle, Cartman, and the girl all rose.

For a moment their eyes all met and there was a brief battle of wills, when the voice of the headmaster called, "All of you, please."

Reluctantly Kyle filed into the headmaster's office behind the other two.

There were three chairs, all plush, facing a heavy wooden desk, behind which sat Mr. Kim, headmaster, in a high backed chair. The room was warm, welcoming, with a fire burning in the fireplace and shelves of books lining the walls.

Kyle, Cartman, and the girl all stood before the desk and Mr. Kim, stiff backed and straight faced.

"Please, have a seat," Mr. Kim said with a sweep of his arm.

Mr. Kim was a middle aged, balding man, with distinctly Asian features. His eyes were hazel crescent moons framed by reading glasses. He wore a warm brown suit, and a pleasant smile as he regarded the three students before him.

He did not speak at first. Mr. Kim was not a very hurried man, taking his time to slowly adjust to each new presence, always speaking slowly, and certainly thinking heavily about how he ought to say things.

When the man was finally ready to speak, Kyle felt himself tense, preparing for the worse.

"Tell me, do you know who the others are, sitting here with you?"

The confusion must have shown on their faces as Mr. Kim smiled fondly, the way you might at a small child.

"I mean to say, look next to you, do you know these students?"

"Of course," the girl said immediately.

Kyle himself was lost. He knew Cartman, obviously, but not this other girl, though he was sure he seen her around. She was fair skinned, with long dark hair and a sharp face. She carried herself with a tangible confidence, and had eyes that locked analytical gazes with everything in her path. She was severe, dangerous, trim. In a word, breathtaking.

Which also meant she wasn't the kind of girl looking Kyle's way.

"Do elaborate," Mr. Kim said.

"Kyle Broflovski," the girl said, "Program Four, top of his class, enrolled in multiple advanced computer and technology classes. Skilled in athletics and self-defense, leader of the On Campus Jewish Society, active participant in the Gay-Straight Alliance, and regular volunteer and manager of the Key Club. A sought after patron.

"Eric Cartman, also Program Four, top of his class. President of the Opposing Debate Team, Politics Club, and several other highly selective organizations. Has a column in the student newspaper, and is known to have raised upwards of two million dollars through various business scams and campaigns around campus."

As the girl finished Mr. Kim's smile only grew.

"The wonders never cease, Miss Testaburger." The girl smiled smugly. "However you failed to mention yourself."

She straightened, looked across at the two boys, and cleared her throat to begin. "I am Wendy Testaburger. Program Four, top of my class, head of the Debate Team, the Young Democrats Committee, the Strong Women Campaign and the Equality Mission. My most advanced classes are in the fields of natural science and psychology, along with several courses in law. I also started the women's fight club."

As she finished Kyle couldn't help feeling suddenly smaller, self-conscious. He'd known he'd had good grades, he also knew that he wasn't alone, but being confronted with all this information was, overwhelming. He'd had no idea Cartman even competed with him grades wise. He'd always assumed the lard was failing.

"The reason I've called you all here today, is to talk about your grades."

For the first time the girl looked uneasy, "Sorry sir, but I thought—"

Mr. Kim held up his hand, silencing her, "Your grades are fine Wendy, more than fine actually, all of you. And that's what I wanted to talk about. You three have reached the highest level of achievement possible at this school. Your grades are perfect, your extracurriculars countless, and each of you is uniquely intelligent and skilled. Alone you are formidable figures. However, I'd like to ask, did you ever consider what you could do, together?"

"Excuse me sir, but if you don't mind me saying, no." Cartman said. "I work alone."

Mr. Kim sighed and cast a forlorn look in Cartman's direction.

"Just, think, Mr. Cartman. Please."

Cartman quieted down, obviously irked, and looked angrily in Kyle's direction like this was somehow his fault.

"You three are the only students in this school who have reached a level that qualifies you to run for student office."

At this the three straightened up.

"Seeing as the last student government has graduated, it is time to fill the positions. You are our only qualified students. I was hoping to convince you to run."

Kyle looked towards the other two. He had no doubt he could take Cartman, no one liked him. But Wendy, he wasn't sure. And he did have an awful lot of work to be doing for class, so maybe it wouldn't be worth it.

The other two had none of the same reservations, immediately sizing each other up with confident smirks and glares.

"If you choose to run each of you _will_ get a position, however, student popular vote will determine who receives which position."

"Obviously I would be honored sir," Wendy said before the others could do anything. Kyle huffed. Wendy obviously thought she had this in the bag.

"And obviously you are fully prepared to accept the position of VP because I am going to be taking the office of president." Cartman said, voice full of sweet tones as he smiled at Wendy.

Mr. Kim beamed at the two of them barely keeping from going at it. The man had a strange sense of humor, Kyle decided.

"And Kyle?"

Kyle jumped. He'd thought he'd been forgotten.

He paused.

"Sign me up."

Mr. Kim smiled, nodding his approval. "Very well, Freya will brief you on what you need to know, and, before you leave, be aware, there are more tests in your future. Student vote may determine who becomes president, but I determine who is qualified, are we clear?"

"Clear, sir."

"Then you are dismissed."

* * *

It was half an hour passed lunch. Normally Kyle didn't ever skip class but he'd been thinking about his talk with Mr. Kim. Student council was no small matter and Kyle was beginning to question how exactly he would do it. It wasn't that he wasn't well liked it was just that, well…

Kyle had never really had many friends.

When he'd first come to SAKI he'd pretty much been determined to not screw up, and in the end spent more time with his homework than he did talking to other people. He only talked to people when he'd been forced and his Matron hadn't even been a student. It'd been Freya. Apparently alumni could do that.

Point being while Kyle certainly wasn't on ill terms with anyone (Cartman aside) he wasn't exactly well liked. His closest friends were all his dorm mates. Tammy, Kevin, Ike, and maybe even to some extent Stan, though to be honest the boy was probably less social than Kyle.

President was determined by popular vote. Cartman would never win, but Wendy, she might. Kyle had done some digging. Wendy headed more clubs, did more volunteer work, and was more social than Cartman and him combined. She sat at the popular table, was pretty, talented, and brutal. Kyle didn't stand a chance.

And that was why he was wandering the halls aimlessly wallowing in sorrow half an hour past lunch.

Kyle's wallowing, however, stopped as he passed by the door to an old art room.

The art rooms all had floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the neatly kept sports fields, or the courtyards, or private parks. They were never darkly lit and always crowded with stools and easels and drafting tables. As Kyle walked by he came across a room with its door ajar and caught sight of a figure in the window. His dark hair was a mess, he wasn't wearing his blazer, and in his right hand was a dark glass bottle.

Kyle felt himself tense up. A feeling of deep dread washed over him, the kind of endless black that you only feel once, maybe twice in your life if you're lucky. It was rare Kyle ever felt something like this. Every now and then he got a hunch, a feeling that something was wrong, but this was different. It was as if he was in this person's head and whoever they were, something was wrong, wrong in the way that couldn't be fixed.

"You okay?" he called.

The kid jumped and turned around, bottle going behind his back as two blue eyes widened in horror. Stan Marsh.

"_Stan_?"

"Hey Kyle."

Kyle checked to make sure no one was coming down the halls, stepped into the room, and shut the door softly behind him.

"What are you thinking?" Kyle asked, keeping his voice low and gesturing angrily to the bottle.

"I just," Stan looked around the room at anything that wasn't Kyle.

"Oh, give me that." Kyle surged forward and yanked the bottle out of Stan's hands. He walked over to the paint stained sink where he dumped the foul smelling contents.

"Hey!" Stan protested but didn't do anything other than watch as the liquid vanished down the drain.

When Kyle was satisfied he set the bottle down on the edge of the sink and turned back around to face Stan.

Stan had moved to the window and was looking out, brooding silently and pointedly ignoring Kyle.

"What are you doing Stan?" Kyle asked at last.

Stand said nothing.

"You could lose your position if anyone found out. You could be expelled."

Stan tensed, "Will you tell anyone?"

Kyle hesitated to answer. He should, in all honesty, he should tell the nearest teacher, get Stan help.

He looked at the other boy. His dark blue eyes were drooping, and his skin was an unhealthy shade of white. He stood like he was about to fall over, like he hadn't slept in forever. Kyle couldn't help it, his sympathy was pulled.

Kyle sighed. "No."

Stan relaxed and took a seat on the windowsill. Kyle stood there for a moment, watching him. Stan didn't seem to realize he was still there.

Kyle looked back and forth between his watch (the bell would ring soon) and Stan, shifting uncomfortably. Part of him wanted to leave. Stan wasn't really his friend and this was none of his business. Still, Kyle felt responsible. Stan was a part of Dorm E and didn't have much in way of friends. Even Kyle had a few of those. So, he resigned himself to stay.

He took a seat quietly beside Stan. Stan didn't even look up.

"Why?" Kyle asked.

Stan let out a long sigh. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, but for reasons Kyle didn't quite understand, he didn't turn away.

"You know how some days, it's like, life's just gone to shit?"

Kyle snorted. Oh, he knew alright.

"Well for me, it's like that every day." Stan said.

"And so you drink?" Kyle asked. "That is really not a solution."

Stan scowled, and turned to face him. "Well then you tell me what I should do because, believe me, I've tried everything."

Kyle stared. Stan was never angry, or loud, even when he had to keep the dorm under control. It was unnerving to watch the normally mellow depressive boy turn suddenly into this angry thing.

"How about getting help," he said, trying to sound angry, but it was weak. Stan had thrown him off his game.

"I did! And they diagnosed me with Asperger's."

Silence followed Stan's statement.

"Asperger's?" Kyle asked quietly, barely managing to suppress his smile.

"Not funny dude."

"I know, I know." Kyle sighed, humor draining away. "But still. Clinically depressed, cynic, alcoholic. I would've gone with any of those before Asperger's."

"Well, the doctor did call me a cynical asshole."

Kyle couldn't help it, that time he laughed.

Stan was still looking away from Kyle, out the window, but the beginnings of a smile had crept into his face. The mood in the room seemed lighter, lifted from black to a pale shade of gray.

"Is that why you're here?" Kyle asked. He proceeded to mentally kick himself. Everyone came to SAKI with the Headmaster's invitation for their own reasons. Asking about why and how people got to this school was about as personal and rude as asking to see them naked. Kyle was set to launch into a long apology speech when, to his surprise, Stan answered.

* * *

**Okay, so sorry sorry sorry _sorry_ this was so late. Nanowrimo had me distracted. Plus, I had a film project that needed finishing. So, yeah, again, sorry and thank you to the people who reviewed, faved, followed, and whatnot. I'm really having fun with this project and it's awesome to hear from you.**

**So we meet Craig in this chapter, and yes he is important later.**

**Also, there's Christophe, who's awesome. And also important later.**

**AND we get some Kyle POV. I should warn you there will be a lot more branching off into different POVs as this progresses (at least that's the plan).**

**And for whatever reason my chapter length is becoming ridiculous. Hopefully that makes up for the two week break, yes? **

**The plot is finally beginning to get going. And next chapter we get a Stan flashback, so, things to look forward too :) I am making an effort to keep as many canon events in here as possible. Obviously I can only do so much, and a lot of them will be altered to fit the story line, but I kind of want this to still feel like South Park. For whatever reason Stan felt very OOC this chapter, so I'm working on that as well. **

**Hope you liked it, and if you have any feedback feel free to leave a review. Especially if you see typos. I hate those things, yet have a propensity to miss them in my final edits.**

**Er, also, AN now at the bottom of the chapter. **


	5. Chapter 5: Stan's Story

_I love South Park_–Stan's monologue.

* * *

_I'm not sure when it all started. All I know is that by eighth grade I was already past the point of despair. Every day was the same routine, and it was painful having to live it all._

_People said it was temporary, that my parents' divorce had just shaken me up a bit._

_Thing was, it wasn't temporary. I had felt that way long before mom and Randy decided to break it off and I felt that way a long time after. That's why mom put me into therapy with the oh so _brilliant_ Dr. Roswell._

* * *

Flashback

* * *

"Do you have anything you want to add Stan?" Dr. Roswell peered over the top of glasses expectantly.

Stan only sank further into his seat, arms wrapped around himself in a futile attempt to make himself feel safe in this God awful place. His eyes flitted to the clock on the wall. Fifteen more minutes. If he could hold out for fifteen more minutes his mom would be here and he could go home and not have to think about this for another week.

"Stanley," Dr. Roswell said in a tone Stan was sure the man thought was encouraging, but did nothing more than remind the boy of the way his mom sometimes talked to Randy when he did something especially stupid.

"Stan, please, just say something." Now the doctor was begging. Stan almost felt bad for him. It's not like Stan disliked the man, though he had a tendency to re-diagnose Stan every other week. He could understand the man's frustration. If Stan didn't talk he couldn't do his job, and Stan totally got that. But he couldn't talk. He looked up quickly at the other patients in the circle.

Most of them were older than him. A tall, pimply guy with poorly dyed hair, a chubby woman with pigtails, an old guy with long white hair, and a few others, all diagnosed with behavioral disorders and all here for Dr. Roswell's weekly group therapy session.

None of them smiled or offered any form of encouragement. Instead they only served to further discourage Stan, glaring, shaking their heads, making faces as soon as Roswell's back was turned. One in particular, a guy in a trench coat with glasses and spiked up hair, mimed slitting Stan's throat.

Stan looked back to Dr. Roswell wondering if the man was blind. How could he miss that his own patients were the problem, not some mental block?

"I have nothing to say sir." Stan said.

Dr. Roswell sighed and sat back in his chair, jotting something on his clipboard.

"How about you, Puck?" he asked.

The guy who'd just threatened to rip open Stan's throat suddenly smiled, sweet as could be.

"I just wish Stanny would talk to us Dr. Roswell. Being in group therapy has really helped me, and I know it would help him if he'd just open up." As he finished Puck sent a knowing look Stan's way.

Stan wished the chair would eat him. Dr. Roswell must be a the dimmest man in the world to miss all the snickering flying around the circle as Puck finished talking.

"Thank you Puck," Roswell said, beaming. "You certainly have come far."

It really wasn't fair. How did Stan get stuck with the group full of manipulative assholes?

"I think that about wraps us up for the day gang." Dr. Roswell said, "You're all free to go."

There was some murmuring as people began to got up and wandered out. Dr. Roswell's group therapy took place at the mental hospital New Heights. Some of the patients were actually committed. Rachel, the chubby brunette, and the Raven haired Tiffany who was hiding in the corner, to name some.

Stan didn't know what it was like to stay in a mental institute. Miserable, he imagined. He would hate it. To be told you're too crazy to live with the normal people, it seemed insulting.

He wandered down to the lobby, text already sent to his mom, and left through the glass doors. He ended up on the sidewalk in front of the building, scanning the parking lot. His mom was late again. Probably busy with the new job. Being a single mother had been more than she bargained for.

It was raining out. Stan didn't care. He didn't want to wait inside. Last time he'd tried to, Puck had decided to give him a proper introduction. The stupid ass security guards had had the nerve to tell Stan he was the disturbance.

He didn't like Puck, but the guy sure had everyone fooled. If Stan could fake it like that he wouldn't be in this mess, taking different drugs every other week, living in a grey prescription haze. It was the same routine. Every few weeks when the drugs didn't fix Stan, he'd be diagnosed with something else and given new ones. Stan really couldn't tell the difference between them. They all felt the same.

He waited outside, letting the rain soak through his old grey sweatshirt. The icy water bit into his skin, turning his cheeks red and making it hard to feel his face. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sting. It was refreshing. Maybe one of the better things Stan had felt in a while. Which was really rather sad. He missed the days when just the latest album of his favorite band was enough to make him happy.

"Mr. Marsh. Fine evening isn't it? Enjoying the rain?"

"Mr. Kim."

Stan didn't even have to open his eyes. Mr. Kim was there every day.

"Waiting for your mother?"

Stan opened his eyes and finally looked at the man. Mr. Kim was Asian, with a chocolate brown suit and hazel eyes. He was one of those people who simply looked like a good human being, with a face filled with lined from smiling, and eyes that shone with kindness. Stan thought he would have liked the man, if he had met him before everything went wrong. Mr. Kim held out his umbrella, giving Stan cover from the rain.

"It's not good of her to be late." Mr. Kim said.

"It's fine." Stan said. He didn't care, one way or another. "Here to see your daughter?"

For a moment Mr. Kim looked almost sad, but the look passed. "Of course. Have you thought any more about my offer?"

Oh Stan had thought about it. Not that he was seriously considering it, it was just a funny thought. Mr. Kim, who Stan had met weeks ago when these therapy sessions first started, wanted Stan to attend his boarding school.

"It would be the opportunity of a lifetime," Mr. Kim said.

Stan could only shake his head. Mr. Kim backed down, clearly disappointed.

Stan's heart did go out to the man, even if he was a bit odd. When they'd first met, and Mr. Kim had made his offer, Stan had thought he was a creeper, and had all but bolted to the car when his mom showed up.

A few weeks and brief encounters had told him Mr. Kim was here every day, visiting his daughter. Sometimes Stan would see him in the lobby, or the halls, but most of the time it was here where they met, outside the building as Stan waited for his mom. It must have been terrible for Mr. Kim, to have to come to this place, to have someone he loved be so insane that he couldn't even keep her at home.

Stan had asked Mr. Kim about his daughter once, but his face had darkened and he refused to speak.

"I believe your mother is here." Mr. Kim said as a maroon minivan pulled up to the curb.

Stan's mom rolled down the window and smiled at them. "Good evening Mr. Kim. Thank you for watching Stanley for me. You know you don't have to."

"It's quite all right. I'm just happy to help."

Stan climbed into the car, and buckled in. His mom said a final good evening to Mr. Kim and rolled up the window. Stan watched the figure of Mr. Kim grow smaller as they drove away.

"He's a very nice man." Stan's mom said.

Stan shrugged. He didn't feel like talking about it.

His mom watched him through the rearview mirror, frown etched into her face, but remained silent.

* * *

Stan doubled over and breathed in the fresh air like he might never get any again. It felt that way. God he hated it at this stupid school.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

Stan looked up. Standing before him was a guy, and a couple girls, dressed in black, with heavy eyeliner and an interesting choice in style.

Stan closed his eyes. His head hurt. He didn't wasn't to deal with this.

He opened his eyes and straightened up.

"I'm leaving." He told the goth kids.

"Oh, I know who you are," one of the girls said, "You're that crazy kid. So what are you? Bipolar or something?"

Stan glared, and bit back a response. He had just wanted some peace. He got enough of this sort of crap in the classroom. Constant whispers following him down the hall. Even the teachers, when they thought he couldn't hear.

"I just—"

"Leave him alone." The guy said, he turned toward Stan, holding out a pack of cigarettes, "You smoke?"

* * *

Stan didn't actually smoke, but at that point Stan really didn't care much anymore. And the gothic freaks were at least smart enough not to pester him, which is how Stan ended up spending more time at the back of the school with them than he did in actual class. He didn't know their names, they didn't know his, and that's how he liked it. It almost made everything, the countless drugs, stupid Puck and the therapy, bearable. Until his parents found out.

"Honestly doctor, I don't know what's wrong with him." Stan's mom said.

Stan, his mom and Randy, and Dr. Roswell all sat in the doctor's office on the first floor of the New Heights.

"I know what's wrong with him. He's a freak Sharon! Mentally unstable. I mean look at him, he's completely turned off to everything."

Stan's mom shot Randy a withering look, but didn't say anything. She turned back to Dr. Roswell.

"Doctor please, you must know something?"

Dr. Roswell sighed and rubbed his temple as he scanned through the notes on his clipboard. "Well, we could try a different prescription."

Stan felt his stomach drop. Ever since this stupid thing had started they'd diagnosed him with every possible disorder, given him every possible drug. He just wanted it to stop, wanted everything back to normal. The very thought of another round of this monotonous pattern made his blood run cold.

"Why don't we start him on a new dosage of—"

"No!" Stan shouted, cutting the doctor off. "Stop it! Just stop it!"

Dr. Roswell stared, shocked. "Stan?"

Stan sat back. He was an idiot. He shouldn't have spoken up. Now the adults in the room were all staring down at him expectantly. Stan felt himself close up.

"Sorry sir," he muttered.

"Stan." Stan's mom reached out, and he jerked away.

She stared on shocked. Stan's mother had always been a fairly level headed woman, kind, but Stan couldn't help but think she never did enough. She never reeled Randy in, and she'd been the one to call the divorce, to bring him to the doctor. She was as at fault as anyone else.

Eventually they all lost interest in Stan, and returned to their conversation like he wasn't even there. That was okay. That was the way things always were. Stan was interesting as long as he wasn't doing what was expected. Past that he was just background noise.

It didn't take much to slip out of the room unnoticed.

Stan didn't know where he was going, just that he was going away. He didn't want to be in that room with those people who didn't understand. Stan couldn't be helped. Nothing could help.

He wandered aimlessly, not even really sure what he was looking for as he drifted down long reflective halls. As he passed by the rooms he caught sight of patients, and nurses, and groups of people, sometimes his age, sometimes older, learning or doing crafts. It was rather quiet, for a place where the crazy lived. It was eerie.

"Didn't know they committed you Marsh," someone called.

Stan sighed, and turned around. "Hey Puck."

The older boy grinned down on him. His trench coat was gone, replaced by a sweatshirt (likely provided by the hospital), and his hair looked like it had been forcibly combed out.

He saw what Stan was looking at and scowled.

"Visiting day," he explained.

"Visiting day?"

"Family comes to visit. Supposed to help with the recovery." Puck gave a sarcastic smile and Stan sadly felt he understood perfectly Puck's sarcasm.

"So what are you doing here, Stanny boy? Doctor need to see you for a little one on one?" Puck waggled his eyebrows meaningfully.

Stan scowled and shoved passed Puck. He didn't have to listen to that. He kept walking, and to his surprise, Puck followed.

"Don't be like that, Stanny boy. I'm just joking." Puck said.

Stan walked faster.

"Okay, now you're just being unreasonable." Puck reached out and grabbed him, pulling him back. Stan stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet and glare.  
Puck heaved a melodramatic sigh. "Now Stan, I'm only trying to help."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what this is." Stan said, jerking himself out of Puck's grip and putting some distance between himself and the older boy.

"Is this about the group therapy thing? Oh c'mon, that's funny, even you have to admit that. Oh don't you walk away," Puck yanked Stan back into place, forcing him to stay and watch as Puck began ranting, "Not my fault if you've got problems. We've all got problems kid. I'm at least trying to have some fun with mine."

That was it.

"And what, exactly, do you think is so fun about this? How can you have fun, when nothing makes you happy?"

Stan expected a lot of things, but not the blank look on Puck's face as he stared down at him.

Puck started walking, dragging Stan with him.

"H-hey!"

"Just shut up and come with me."

Puck dragged him up flights of stairs and through whitewashed halls that he'd never seen before, and never would again.

They ended up on the roof. The stars were already out, and they watched on in disapproval as Puck dug a six pack of cheap beer out of a crevice in the wall, and passed on to Stan.

"Bottoms up, Stanny boy." Puck downed his in one go.

Stan stared. He looked between the open beer in his hand, and Puck, who was grinning at him manically, daring him to try it.

Stan's grip on the can tightened.

"Is this how you do it? Stay happy?" Stan accused. Knowing the truth felt cheap, like Puck was cheating somehow.

Puck's eyes glinted in the low light. "There's no such thing as happiness Stan."

Stan took a last look at the can in his hands. It was going to taste awful. He would get in trouble. He was thirteen, he shouldn't even have this. This could all go so wrong.

Visions of new meds and endless days at school, reminders of everything in his life that he hated, flashed before his mind as he remembered his parents, down in that office, talking about him like he wasn't there.

Stan took a gulp.

* * *

"Tell me when you first started feeling unhappy."

Stan continued to stare up at the ceiling. These one on one therapy sessions were a new part of his regimen. He considered not answering. Roswell was the doctor here, couldn't he figure it out? Must be hard dealing with crazy people all day.

No, Stan decided, he'd give the doctor what he wanted for now. Maybe he could fake his way out of this like Puck was always doing.  
And when had Stan started feeling unhappy? He used to think it was his parents divorce, maybe, but Stan had been unhappy long before then. He could only vaguely remember a time he wasn't unhappy. But it was a blur, that faded and became more distorted the more he tried to remember. It felt like things had always been this way.

"I've always been unhappy." Stan answered.

The doctor jotted something down. "Why?"

Stan let out an irritated sigh and sank down further in his seat.

"What do you mean, why?"

"I mean," here the doctor paused, "what makes you unhappy? The most? What made you realize you were unhappy? And why?"

Stan had to think about that a moment.

"It's just. Everything. Everything makes me unhappy. And the things that made me happy a really long time ago? They just don't anymore. Nothing."

"But why?"

"I don't know! My parents, the stupid stuff that happens, it's like nothing's changed, and at the same time." Stan took a deep breath, "I just want things to go back to normal."

"Back to normal? Why?"

"Because at least then I was happy."

The doctor's eyes flitted to the clock on the wall and he nodded to himself, before picking up a notebook laying to the side and handing it over to Stan.

"I want you to record your days in this. You say everything makes you unhappy? I want you to write exactly why in here. Let's see what's inside that head of yours." The doctor smiled encouragingly.

Stan looked blankly at the dark blue spiral notebook, even as the secretary knocked to let them know his parents were here. He looked up, wanting to say something but not sure what.

"Stan," the doctor cut him off, "I want you to think about something. You say nothings changed, but how can that be true when you're parents have only recently divorced? Divorce is perhaps one of the greatest changes of all. And I really think you could find opportunities here."

Stan flashed him a smile full of mirth. "They didn't tell you doctor?"

"Tell me what?"

"This is the second time."

Stan left the man, to think about that, bolting down the hall, happy to escape,

"Evening Mr. Kim." He nodded to the man as he left with his mother.

* * *

"Hey Stan."

Stan looked up from where he'd been doodling in the margins of his notebook. Before him was a blonde boy with a sunny face. He shifted his weight awkwardly, like he really didn't want to be there.

"What?" Stan asked, a bit annoyed. He just wanted to be left alone.

"Um, I'm Gary," the kid said.

Stan continued to stare.

"Um," Gary said, "Can I sit here?"

Stan let his eyes wander briefly over the rest of the lunch room. He could see a group of guys over a couple tables, all watching the proceedings like some kind of movie.

Stan decided to do what he did best. He ignored it.

Gary took his silence as an affirmative, and took a seat at the table. Stan continued to ignore him.

Stan was actually surprised the kid lasted as long as he did. Most of the time people gave in rather quickly, Stan's silence and depressing attitude scaring them into silence or making them leave rather quickly.

Gary was something else, however, and the boy continued to sit there, quiet, but seemingly unintimidated.

"Hey," Gary said.

Stan looked up. If only for this kid's bizarre inability to be intimidated, Stan was admittedly a little curious.

"Did you draw that?" Gary was looking at his notebook and Stan paused.

Scrawled across the notebook Stan was supposed to be using to record his thoughts for Dr. Roswell was a pattern of lines and circles, and really, as Stan looked at it, he wasn't entirely sure what it was supposed to be. He thought he saw a dragon in the upper left corner, and that over there was definitely a fish.

"That's really good." Gary said. He stared down at Stan's notebook like it was something foreign he'd never seen before.

"Um, thanks," Stan said. He was a bit taken aback.

Gary didn't seem to mind he held out his hand. "Can I?"

Reluctantly Stan handed his notebook over.

Gary flipped through it, something akin to awe on his face as he passed by the dozens of old doodles that Stan had etched into the margins of the notebook.

"These are insanely good," Gary said, "Do you take classes?"

"No, er, those are just, you know, I wasn't really drawing anything." Stan suddenly felt self-conscious with the way Gary was gushing over his work. He'd never had anyone even comment of his drawing ability before. Until just that moment, he hadn't thought he had one.

"You should totally enter these into the local student art exhibit. That would be so cool."

"I don't really think…"

"Yeah, definitely. My family is going to the museum tomorrow, and I'm friends with the art teacher. I'm sure I can get you in."

* * *

Gary's family was perfect. Inhuman even. There was no other explanation for how happy they were. It was like all they did was have fun and be happy together. Stan didn't even realize having fun and family were things that belonged in the same sentence.

"Isn't it amazing?" Gary's mother said, gesturing to the piece on the wall.

Stan was quickly growing used to the feeling, the mix of embarrassment and pride that welled up inside him with every compliment, no matter how small. He wasn't sure if he liked it or hated it, but it was something.

Stan smiled and tried to accept Gary's mother's praise gratefully. They were standing in the local art museum. Stan's work had been accepted, thanks to Gary and some talking with the school's art teacher. In fact, Stan had an entire wall for his own work. He felt kind of silly, looking at it now. His stuff was all on notebook and printer paper, while everyone else in the hall had canvasses and charcoals, and in general, looked very professional.

"Hey." Gary came to stand beside them as they looked over Stan's section of the gallery. "Where're your parents?"

"Couldn't make it."

Gary looked upset about something, but Stan didn't see the big deal. This wasn't a real art gallery anyways. The student gallery was just a hallway in the back of the museum, barely looked after, and filled only with students and their parents. It wasn't like it was important.

An older couple, probably parents here for their kid, paused by the section of wall dedicated to Stan's work.

"Hey these are pretty good," one of them said.

"Yeah, my friend Stan here made them." Gary said, smiling broadly.

As Stan was forced into an awkward conversation about his nonexistent talent and future plans, Stan wasn't sure if he was annoyed with Gary, or glad he was here.

Later, during the speeches and student gallery awards, when Stan was awarded second place for most original designs, and Gary and his family walked up to the podium with him, he decided he was definitely glad.

But of course, luck was never on Stan's side in life.

* * *

Mr. Kim wasn't there that Saturday. Or on the Tuesday for group therapy. Stan was beginning to worry.

"Excuse me." Something had been bothering Stan. Mr. Kim hadn't been around for a couple days, which was unusual in and of itself. Also, it was a Saturday, which, if Puck hadn't been lying, was family day.

Kim never seemed to be around on family.

"Yes dear?" the nurse asked.

"Have you seen Mr. Kim?"

The nurse gave him a strange look. "There is no Mr. Kim here."

Stan bit his lip, "He visits his daughter? Here every Tuesday?"

"I'm sorry, there's no one by the name of Kim at this institute."

"But I—"

"Maybe you should lie down."

"No," Stan jumped back, out of reach of the nurse. "I-I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, um, thank you." He hurried out of the building

* * *

Things did start getting better. He didn't notice at first, because well, things still sucked, but they didn't suck as bad. First, Puck stopped being such a douche. He still was an ass and Stan still avoided him like the plague, but they had a secret now, something they shared, and with that came a sort of bond that Stan couldn't quite describe.

Back home things were finally starting to even out. He was used to the back and forth of one house, then another, and neither may have felt like home, but he was reaching a new normal. And at school, as much as it pained Stan a little to admit it, he and Gary were friends. And that was okay. Stan could deal with that. He couldn't deal with this.

"What do you mean you're getting back together?"

Stan's mom and Randy exchanged nervous looks, and held each other's hands firmly as they stood before Stan and his sister delivering the devastating news.

"Me and your father, we've decided, sometimes things, are just best left the way they were."

The way things were. The way things had been, if Stan remembered right, Randy had been insufferable, mom had been miserable, and Shelley had been beating him up for fun. There had been nothing good in the way things were, and now they expected him to go back.

He didn't know how he got there. It was all a blur. He remembered yelling, his mother yelling at him, and him screaming back, refusing to hear her out. He remembered storming out the door, and then

Running. He just ran, as fast and as far as he could, and now…

"Good evening Mr. Marsh."

Stan looked up. Mr. Kim stood in front of him, smiling not unkindly as Stan found it difficult to even breathe.

"Mr. Kim," he finally managed between breaths, "I…"

"Have you reconsidered my offer?"

An escape. That was all Stan thought at the time. It was an escape, a perfect escape, offered when he wanted one most.

"Yes."

* * *

End Flashback

* * *

_At the time I'd really had no real idea about who he was or what I just agreed to. I guess it all worked out for the best though. Mr. Kim showed up the next day with papers and brochures. I don't know what he said to my parents, but they didn't fight him on anything. They just let me go._

_I never saw Gary or Puck again._

* * *

Kyle let that sink in for a while. Stan's story was scarily familiar.

"I don't think you're supposed to tell me any of this." he said. If he were in Stan's shoes he definitely wouldn't have told some stranger his life story. At the same time though, Kyle would admit he was a bit touched. More than ever he felt the need to help Stan.

Stan sighed. "Probably not."

"You should have quit drinking." Kyle said. Not out of anger, or righteousness, but more because he had nothing else to say.

Stan grinned at him and held up his hands in a surrendering fashion.

"Does it really help?"

Stan shrugged. "At this point, does it matter?"

"But things are better here, right?"

Here Stan paused. "I don't know. Is it better than home? Yeah but. I really don't think things have changed."

Kyle crossed his arms. "Fine. Then here's what's going to happen. First you're going to stop drinking."

"I am?"

"Shouldn't have told me if you didn't want the help," Kyle said, his own smile beginning to grow, "And we're going to fix this. Maybe not with drugs or therapy, but we'll figure something out, okay?"

Kyle held out his hand and Stan eyed it warily.

"C'mon, I just want to help." Kyle said.

Stan took his hand. " you really think you can fix this, by all means, try."

* * *

Kenny's morning was spent in painful anticipation of Self Defense I. He had spent all of Mr. Brown's English class watching the clock and had tuned out algebra completely, much to the teacher's dismay.

Despite Kenny's doubts, dorm bonding had done its job. Sure none of Kenny's dorm mates were in any of his classes, but he felt more at ease than he had Friday. More like he belonged here. He still panicked. And he did come across the usual rich snobs and elite classes, but for the most part, SAKI was a lot like a normal school.

Self-defense was what was known as a mobile class, which meant there was no set classroom that the kids or teachers used. Instead Kenny found himself running around frantically trying to find the location for the day.

When someone told him the roof he almost didn't believe them. But here he was.

"McCormick, you're late."

"Sorry sir!" Kenny called as he stumble out onto the roof and fell into the line of students. Everyone was in gym uniform, dark blue basketball shorts, with grey or blue t-shirts, all with the SAKI emblem over the heart. Kenny had found his, along with four other sets, that morning in his suitcase, with a note declaring it a gift from Mr. Kim.

The roof was wide and flat, with a low wall encasing the area, keeping anyone from an unfortunate fall. It was littered today with gym equipment and obstacle courses, which the teacher paced through as he spoke.

"Alright." The teacher said, "Now that we're all finally here, let's get started."

The teacher was a big man, with broad muscular shoulders that bulged under a black polo. He had greying hair, and paced the roof as he spoke. "What we are doing today is falling."

"Falling?" a kid further down the line snorted.

"Yes, Donovan, falling."

Kenny looked over at him. He recognized this Donovan from somewhere.

Donovan turned and grinned at him.

Of course. It was that Clyde kid.

"Now, we're starting off with something simple, learning to fall, some rolls, but our ultimate goal, is this." The teacher gestured to a harness and rope coiled at the edge of the roof. "We're going to jump off the roof."

"Mr. Garret, I don't really see what this has to do with defending oneself," a student with a posh British accent said.  
The teacher, Mr. Garret, let out an irritated sigh, "Shut up, Pip."

"Oh, all right then." The blonde kid backed down. Clyde laughed and said something to a few other boys making them snicker, and Pip just smiled like he was in on the joke. Kenny felt a little sorry for him.

"Okay, everyone, attention!"

Everyone's head snapped in the direction of Mr. Garret, who pointed to a thick mat that had to be a couple dozen feet long, and was pushed up against a wooden wall about six feet high. "So here's how this is going to work. Over hear is the mat. By the time I'm pushing you off this roof you will have rolled and fallen so many times it'll be second nature. Pip, get over here and demonstrate."

The blonde boy squeaked in surprise and hurried over to the teacher.

Mr. Garret shoved him back. The boy flailed, arms wind milling as he tried futilely to keep his balance before a light tap from Mr. Garret sent him sprawling back onto the mat.

Mr. Garret turned back to the class. "Now that, is exactly how not to fall. If any of you fall like that I will kill Pip."

Pip squeaked in horror.

Mr. Garret spent the next twenty minutes lecturing on the exact way to fall, making the students, about twenty of them in all, line up, climb to the top of the wall, and jump off it one by one as he shook his head and muttered about the failings of today's youth.

When Kenny's turn came, Mr. Garret paused.

"You're the new kid?"

Kenny nodded.

"Alright. You're gonna tuck and roll, think you can do that?"

Kenny scowled. Mr. Garret was talking like he already expected him to fail. So, Kenny tucked his head, and before Garret could blow his whistle leapt off the wall.

He tried his best to fold his arms and roll into his landing the way Garret had explained, but he mostly felt like an idiot as he stumbled and lost his balance. His only condolence was that Clyde Donovan was doing just as bad if not worse.

"All right, into pairs. I want you to push your partner down and practice your landings. And please, let's try not to have repeat of last time."

"Last time?" Kenny asked.

"Milly's still in the hospital, thanks to Cartman ." Clyde informed him as he sidled up beside him and grinned, "Partner?"

Kenny looked around, but everyone else had already paired up. So, Kenny resigned himself to his fate and let himself be led away by Clyde.

Once everyone had found a space scattered around the rooftop, Mr. Garret approved them, and blew on his whistle.

"All right new kid." Clyde said, "Let's see what you've got."

Clyde lunged at Kenny, taking him by surprise. Kenny barely had enough time to brace for impact before he was slammed into the ground.  
A shrill whistle cut through the pain, and Clyde backed off.

"Donovan. What the hell did I just say?" Mr. Garret said, looming menacingly, as Clyde laughed nervously, waving his hands frantically as he explained.

"I was just, uh—"

"That's right. You were 'uh'. 'Uh' is unacceptable Donovan. Not to mention that was terrible form. Do I have to kill Pip?"

"Why are you killing me, sir?" the blonde Britt cried from the other side of the roof, only to be ignored.

"Sorry sir." Clyde said.

Mr. Garret glared at Clyde for a few more seconds, then turned to Kenny. "Next time he does that son, you have my full permission to end his life."

Kenny hid his smile as Mr. Garret stalked off and Clyde grumbled to his back.

"Ready Clyde?" Kenny asked. He felt fully recovered, if a bit bruised, and he thought he had some awesome ideas about how to knock Clyde down a peg or two.  
Clyde's eyes widened.

"Hey, wait a sec, I didn't mean noth— Kenny!"

* * *

"That was terrible! Do you want me to kill you?" Garret cried as Pip landed with an oomph. Pip apologized profusely and scurried away.

"Next!"

Another blonde, this one was, according to Clyde's snide remarks, Gregory.

Clyde mimed a high falsetto voice as he and Kenny watched as Gregory performed his roles. "Look everybody! I'm so perfect and amazing and wonderful!

Kenny snickered even though he knew it was childish, earning him another face splitting grin from Clyde.

The two of them had already proved themselves acceptable to Mr. Garret's inspection, after having been thoroughly lectured on the dangers of starting an unsupervised sparring match.

"He's the greatest teacher here." Clyde told Kenny seriously, "Last year, he gave me permission to kill Cartman."

"Why didn't you?"

"Sadly, class ended."

They shared another grin and watched as Gregory finished completing a perfect set of rolls and jumps, back, forward, back again, and Kenny was pretty sure that last one was to show off.

Gregory finished up, and bowed to a round of applause from the rest of the class. He fell back into line and Mr. Garret turned to face them.

"So which of you wants to go first?" he asked, gesturing to the low wall encircling the roof and the only thing keeping everyone safe from immanent disaster.  
Kenny looked around. Even Gregory was hesitant to make a move.

Kenny shot his hand up. "I'll go!"

* * *

"You can do it Kenny!"

"Shut up, Pip."

Kenny smiled slightly as Clyde finished shutting down Pip's enthusiasm, only to turn to him and give Kenny his own thumbs up and a grin.

Kenny turned back around carefully.

He stood on the three inch wide low wall encasing the rooftop, with his arms held up at his sides for balance. He looked down. He hadn't asked how many stories up they were, all he knew was that the spotters down on the ground resembled ants. Even as Mysterion he'd never jumped from this high. He felt a rush as he balanced there, on the edge, wind battering against him, as if trying to knock him over. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine he could fly off.

Directly below him was his landing pad, and around his waist was a rope and harness. If something went wrong he should be fine. And even if he wasn't, well, that would be fine too.

Kenny had jumped off a roof once, just to test it. If the rope snapped or something equally unlikely, then it would be okay. It'd hurt a bit, but he'd be fine.

"Ready McCormick?" Mr. Garret asked

Kenny snapped out of his reverie and turned to Mr. Garret. The man was watching him carefully. For all Garret's talk earlier about how they were all failures, or how he would kill Pip, he looked genuinely concerned then, as he watched Kenny's face for any sign of apprehension.

"Ready sir."

Kenny turned back towards the open sky. If he saw Garret push him he might freak out. He liked it much better just staring at the sky, pretending he wasn't about to—

Garret shoved him off the roof.

For the first split second he forgot to breathe. He had no idea what was going on, what he was doing, and the sight of the ground closing in on him sent his mind into hysteria.

A moment later he found himself again. The sensation of the wind ripping at his face and clothes woke him out of his panic. When he moved, it was less out of respect for his brief training, more a desperate attempt to not die. Even when you were immortal, survival instincts were a bitch.

He tried his best to twist himself around. His movements were jerky and he scraped against the wall, but he got some form of stability. He kicked out his feet, dragging. The ground was uncomfortably close. Everything was moving too fast, and slow all at once.

He didn't quite make it. He hit the ground at a bad angle, shoulder slamming into the padded ground, and barely managed to turn it into a clumsy roll.  
When he had finally stopped moving, he closed his eyes. The stability of the earth felt wonderful beneath him, and his breath came in quick, deep, gasps that slowly evened out as he got his heart rate under control.

"Hey."

Kenny cracked in eye open. Hovering in his line of sight was the face of one of the spotters. He was a younger guy, probably early twenties, with brown hair, and crooked smile.

"That was pretty good." The guy said.

"I missed the landing."

The guy laughed. "When I first tried that, I screamed the entire way down, and landed on my stomach."

After asking if he was sure he was okay, the spotter wandered off, talking to his buddies and preparing for the next jumper.

Kenny sat up. His shoulder cried in protest, but the rest of his body, save a dull ache, seemed mostly unharmed. He stared up at where he'd come from in wonder and laughed.

* * *

Kenny shouldered his way through the crowds of the dining hall, tray in his hands. The place felt even more crowded without Kyle there to show him where to go. He weaved his way around clusters of girls and tables of rowdy boys, and tried to pick out where the lunch line began.

He spotted Kevin coming in through the double door entrance.

"Hey, Kevin!"

Kevin looked up, smiled, and made his way over. "Hey dude, did you get something to eat yet?"

"No I was just heading over."

"Well what are you waiting for? Chef's on duty today and he makes the best stuff."

Kevin dragged Kenny into line, talking about classes.

"You're in Self Defense I? I was in that last year? I can totally help you with it."

They grabbed some pasta, and a fried potato dish that Kenny didn't know the name of, and dodged students as Kevin led him over to a round table in the back where Tammy was eating while looking over a heavy textbook.

She looked up as they approached and flashed a smile. "Hey guys."

"Tammy," Kevin said, sliding into the seat across from her.

Kenny claimed the seat next to the girl for himself. So, maybe technically he couldn't do anything, but he could certainly appreciate the view afforded by her still, definitely not part of uniform, shorts.

"Either of you see Kyle? Or Stan?" Tammy asked.

"Kyle got called down to the office this morning." Kenny said.

"You don't think Freya…?" Kevin trailed off.

"No way, she adores Kyle." Tammy said.

"Detention?"

"Would've heard. You know how Kyle is."

"Abducted?"

"Since when has that happened except that one time?"

Kevin sighed. "Well this is great. Just what we needed. Dorm father missing in action."

"I'm sure we'll hear about it tonight." Tammy said reasonably, returning to her textbook.

"Yeah," Kevin said, stabbing at his own food. "And Stan goes missing sometimes. I mean, I'm sure it's nothing."

"Stan goes missing?" Kenny asked. He couldn't understand how the other two could be so calm about their missing dorm mates.

"Yeah," Kevin said, "Stan's just, Stan, I guess."

"Oh be nice, it's a tough job keeping an entire dorm in line and he's been doing fine for the past couple years." Tammy said.

"Shouldn't you tell someone though?" Kenny asked, voice strained as he realized how unconcerned the other two were with the entire dorm mates missing thing.

Kevin laughed. "Don't get so worked up. Freya's always got an eyes out."

"Right, Freya," Kenny grumbled, "who is she, exactly?"

"Freya's our security." Tammy said. "If something were wrong, she wouldn't let it slide."

Kenny decided it would be best not to mention the Freya's words when questioned about the security breach. "I still thinks it's weird that the whole thing on Saturday just sort of blew over."

"Nobody got hurt." Kevin said, "Though admittedly you guys could have gotten in so much trouble."

"Guys! Guys!" the three turned around. Cartman was barreling through the crowds towards their table. They all had just enough time to exchange looks of horror before Cartman was on them, panting and waving his hands wildly.

"Guys, guys," Cartman said between breaths, "You will not believe, what just happened."  
Cartman paused and looked at them expectantly.

Kevin rolled his eyes, and turned back to his food.

"Guys," Cartman wined.

"What?" Tammy asked, flipping through her book and obviously uninterested.

"Mr. Kim offered me, Eric Cartman, the position of student president."

Kevin choked on his potatoes. "What?"

"That's right," Cartman said, crossing his arms with a smug smile, "You three are looking at your new president."

"No way!" Kevin said, slamming his fork down, "Mr. Kim would not make you president. That's impossible."

"Well, he did." Cartman said, making a face.

"No he didn't." Tammy said. She seemed completely unconcerned with Cartman's news as she continued to flip through her book. "That's not how it works. The president is elected." Here she looked up. "If he called down someone like you, then he must have called down Kyle for the same reason, right?"

Cartman made a sour face."Bitch."

Tammy grinned and turned to Kenny, "That would be a yes."

"I'm still going to win though." Cartman muttered, stalking away to sulk on his own after realizing none of his dorm mates were interested.

Kenny turned back to Kevin and Tammy. "He won't really be class president, will he?"

Kevin shifted nervously. "Well, there are an awful lot of people who might vote for him. I mean, Cartman's sneaky. But if he's up against Kyle, well who would vote for Cartman then?"

It wasn't too reassuring but Kenny decided he was happier believing that then he was thinking about exactly what would happen if Cartman won.

* * *

When Kenny arrived back at Dorm E he looked around the common room. Annie and Powder were hogging the TV with some trashy reality show, and most everyone else seemed to have afterschool stuff.

"Anyone see Karen?" he asked.

Powder pointed down the girl's hall. "Wouldn't bother her if I were you though."

"What? Why?"

Annie and Powder exchanged looks.

Not waiting for their answer Kenny headed down the girls hallway, counting the doors until he came to Karen's.

Kenny knocked on the door. "Hey, Karen?"

"Go away." A muffled voice said. He heard sniffling and movement from beyond the door.

"Karen, what's wrong?" Kenny asked, hand going to the doorknob.

"I just. I don't want to go to school. I want to go home."

"Karen—"

"Go away Kenny!"

Kenny sighed.

"I'm coming in." he told Karen, and puched the door open.

Karen sat huddled on her bed, blanket draped over her shoulders, face stained with tears.

Kenny rushed over and pulled her into a hug.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked softly.

"I don't like it here Kenny." She said.

Kenny sighed, and looked away. He'd known this could happen. Karen was still a little young. She didn't understand why it was they'd both up and left their family, friends, home. Kenny had told her they had too, and she had nodded and agreed, but he should've known that it wouldn't be that simple.

He pulled up a chair from the desk in the corner, and sat down across from Karen.

"Karen?"

"Yes?" she sniffled, rubbing at her eyes, trying to stop the tears.

"I know it sucks, being here, but I promise it will get better, okay?"

Karen nodded but it was obvious she didn't believe him.

Kenny looked around. He hated dealing with Karen when she was like this. He always felt like the insensitive older brother. He took a seat across from Karen on the bed, and pulled her chair so that they were facing each other.

"So, what brought this on?" he asked.

Karen shook her head.

"Karen, c'mon, you can tell me."

"No, it's fine. Really."

He gave her his best admonishing-older-brother-look.

She sighed. "There's this older girl…"

"What older girl?"

"There was an older girl in the hallway and she. It's nothing. A teacher stopped her."

"Stopped her from what?"

Karen fell silent and looked away. She rang the blanket between her hands.

"Karen."

"She said she would beat me up because, because I maybe sort of ran into her. I didn't mean to, but the stuff spilled everywhere and I just... I don't wanna go to school tomorrow."

Kenny pulled Karen into another hug. "It's fine. Don't worry. You just go to bed. Everything will be fine."

It took a lot of talking to calm Karen down and convince her to go to bed. It wasn't late, but it was obvious she was exhausted with the way she yawned and struggled to keep her eyes open.

When she was finally in bed, Kenny stepped his way softly across the room, into the hallway, and closed the door behind him.

"She okay?"

Kenny jumped. "Holy–!"

Kyle smiled apologetically, and gestured for Kenny to be quiet.

"Where've you been man?" Kenny whispered.

"Sorry," Kyle said. "I uh, had a lot to think about. I didn't want to deal with classes."

"You skipped?"

"I took a break."

Kenny cracked a smiled and flung an arm around Kyle's shoulders, "Well thank God your back. I'm starving, and I've got no clue how to work that ridiculous oven microwave toaster thing you guys have."

"Yeah, um, I wanted to talk to you."

Kenny paused. "Is something wrong?"

Kyle backed out of Kenny's grasp, and after checking to see if anyone was coming, pulled Kenny to the side.

"I saw someone on Saturday."

"What?" Kenny said, wincing at his own volume and glancing back towards Karen's door.

"I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier. I forgot, okay?"

"How do you forget something like that?"

"I thought it was a student. He was in the uniform."

"But?"

"But it wasn't. No one from outside the dorm could have been in here. And I didn't recognize him. He was gone when we came back. I tried to bring it up with Freya, but she's still saying nothing happened."

Kenny screwed his eyes shut and tried to think. This was not good, not good at all.

"So someone's in the dorm?"

"Not anymore," Kyle said, and flipped out a phone, showing it to Kenny.

On it was a live feed video of the common room. Kenny could see Kevin as he entered the dorm and made his way over to the TV.

"It's the security feed from Freya's cameras." Kyle said.

"Is that legal?"

Kyle gave him a withering look, and Kenny was struck for a moment. Kyle and Ike might not look alike, but it was obvious to anyone who spent more than five minutes with them that they had to be related. There was no other explanation for their identical, menacing, stares.

"So he's not in the dorm?" Kenny asked instead.

"Not that I can see. And I'm sure Freya's doing something. Even if she won't tell me what." Kyle said the last part bitterly, and Kenny decided not to comment on it.

"Well we have to do something, don't we?" Kenny said. "I mean, we can't be here if it's not safe."

"I know," Kyle said, tucking his phone away. "I'm working on Freya. I'm sure she'll talk eventually."

"You have to let me know if you find anything." Kenny said. He couldn't really impress upon Kyle how important this was. Part of coming to SAKI had been about being safe, about going somewhere where he and his sister could feel secure. If there was something going on, well, part of Kenny would feel betrayed, and the other part wasn't about sit and do nothing.

"Don't worry. I will. And, even if she is annoying, I do trust Freya. We're safe." Kyle said.

Despite Kyle's assurances, Kenny couldn't help the uneasy feeling that crept up on him as they made their way to the common room.

* * *

Kenny stared forlornly down at his schedule. Mackey had said he needed it back this evening signed by his patron. Kenny, of course, had failed to secure such a patron. He debated just not turning it in, seeing how long he could go before someone called him down to the office.

"Is that your schedule?"

Kenny tried to hide it, but it was too late, Tammy snatched his schedule out of his hands and took a seat across from him at the kitchen table. Kevin, who had been wandering the kitchen, paused to peer over her shoulder.

"Hey, you need to get this signed." Kevin said, pointing to the paper.

Kenny looked anywhere but at them, as they stared at him questioningly. "Yeah, um, I was…working on that."

Tammy and Kevin exchanged looks.

"Really Kenny?" Tammy asked, taking a pen out of her pocket.

"Huh?"

"You could've just asked man." Kevin said.

"Yeah, we already signed Karen's papers." Kenny watched open mouthed as Tammy scrawled a perfect signature across the bottom of his schedule and handed it back to him.

"You didn't have to." He managed to stutter out.

"Don't be ridiculous." Tammy said, "Kyle has already practically adopted you."

"What?"

"We double team. Me and Kyle. I'm a matron, he's a patron, and we sponsor people together. Like Kevin here."

Kevin grinned and waved.

Kenny just sat there, still a little stunned, staring at the signature. He felt immensely grateful. God he couldn't even begin to say how glad he was. He was going to owe these people for life. And at the same time he felt guilty.

"My grades—"

"Don't even worry about it." Kevin said, finally taking a seat at the table. "And welcome to the family man."

Kevin held out his hand, and hesitantly, Kenny shook it.

* * *

"Hey, check it out." Kevin said at dinner.

Kenny looked up from his mashed potatoes to look at Kevin questioningly.

Kevin gestured down the table.

Kenny looked. Stan sat at the head of the table. It was his right as Dorm Father. Next to him sat Kyle. They were deep in discussion about something, with Kyle leaning over and speaking quickly. He was obviously passionate about something, as he was waving his hands furiously. Stan seemed more reserved, but fascinated by whatever Kyle was saying, nodding and adding his own quiet comments whenever Kyle paused for air.

"Their awfully close all of a sudden. Something happen down in those tunnels you aren't telling us McCormick?"

It took Kenny a moment to realize Kevin was joking, and he smiled.

"Find out where they were all day?" Kevin asked.

"Not really." Kenny said. "But you and Tammy were right. I wouldn't worry about it."

Kevin seemed to accept this and went back to talking with Powder.

Kenny thought maybe he should feel a little betrayed. After all Kyle had claimed he didn't know Stan. But instead he was just thankful. He used everyone's preoccupation to sneak out of the kitchen.

He went to his dorm room and pulled out his suitcase. He hadn't had much time to unpack, and he sent countless new uniforms into disarray as he dug through it. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

He pulled out the dark grey cloth and long dark cape and examined them in the shadowed room. It was just as he remembered it. He didn't know why he'd assumed it'd be any different. Maybe the alienness of SAKI had just gotten to him.

He pulled the cowl over his head.

* * *

Mysterion had emerged when Kenny was ten years old. It had been a game at first. A way of escaping from real life.

But Kenny's life wasn't something easily escaped. It followed him into the game, and by the time Kenny reached freshman year his alter ego of Mysterion was the town vigilante. He hadn't done it on purpose. Not really. He just meant to do the right thing.

But Kenny couldn't die. And apparently when you can't die, your idea of 'doing the right thing' is a bit different from everyone else's.

So when Kenny started putting his life on the line as Mysterion it hadn't really felt like a big deal. In fact, as Kenny slipped out his dorm room window, it almost felt routine, like he was back home, sneaking out to go watch over his neighborhood. Just a normal Monday evening for Kenny McCormick. Or it would have been, a year ago, before Kenny knew exactly where his powers came from.

If Kenny had ever had a fear of heights, it was gone after that day's lesson with Mr. Garret. He scaled the rooftops effortlessly, letting himself blend with the shadows. No one was out, but after spending some time here, Kenny suspected Freya had a thorough system of camera's surveying the school. The problem was he couldn't see them. He had to guess that she focused most of her attention of high traffic zones, and the places troublemakers might like to hide and avoid those.

Moving between the dorm and the main building was easy enough. The buildings were all connected, and it was a short jump between rafters of Dorm E and Warner Hall.

He scrambled up the tiles, practice keeping him from slipping on the unfamiliar terrain.

He'd spoken with Powder earlier and learned the girl giving Karen trouble was Jessica Pinkerton, from Dorm D.

From his position atop Warner hall he could see the main square courtyard, surrounded by the main building, and several other buildings branching off. If what he'd heard was correct, Dorm D was the dorm on the far side of campus, opposite Warner Hall.

Kenny smiled to himself as he began to swift journey over rooftops to Dorm D.

It felt good to be Mysterion again.

* * *

"Karen." Kenny whispered. He kept his voice low, and unrecognizable. Karen's dorm was a single room, with a lone bed and desk. Karen lay fast asleep under her covers and didn't stir.

"Karen." He tried again.

One honey brown eye cracked open.

"Mm…?"

"Karen."

Karen shot up, eyes wide. "Guardian?"

Kenny smiled.

"It is you," Karen whispered, and flung her arms around him. "I knew you'd come."

"I'm always here." Kenny said, "I need to go soon. But I wanted to tell you to stay strong."

"I don't like it here."

"Don't worry." Kenny said. "Nobody will be causing any problems for you from now on. Just stay strong. And I'm always here for you."

Karen nodded, and watched him with wide eyes as he pulled away and climbed out her window in an easy, practiced motion.

From the roof he heard her faint "Goodbye guardian angel," and smiled to himself.

Karen had always been a whimsical kid, the kind who believed in Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, no matter how many times they mysteriously failed to deliver her presents. When he had first visited her as Mysterion, it had been one of those times when he'd finally gotten fed up with his parents. He'd dressed up hoping to scare them into, well, being better parents, and in the end had somehow become Karen's self-proclaimed protector. Ever since then he'd happily taken the position. To be honest he thought it was a good thing.

As Kenny McCormick, he was nobody. A poor kid with jerk ass parents.

As Mysterion, he was a protector and hero. Karen needed someone like that looking out for her.

Kenny considered heading in for the night, getting some sleep, but as he surveyed the horizon he thought differently. There were city lights just beyond the gates the encircled the campus, and they called to him. So, with one last check in the window to see Karen was safe, he took off in the direction of the city.

* * *

Kyle stared at the computer screen, frown playing at the corner of his mouth.

He really really really should not have been doing this.

But Freya wasn't giving him answers, and as much as he hated to admit it, that scared him more than anything. As strange as she could be, Freya had never kept secrets from him, not like this.

So despite the fact he knew she would be beyond furious, he opened up a program, and began his search. He didn't have a choice anymore. If she wasn't going to tell him what was going on, he knew someone who would.

* * *

Tuesday morning and Mr. Kim sat in his desk chair, facing the window, barely suppressing a smile as he gazed out across the campus at Dorm D.

"He certainly does have an interesting sense of humor." Freya said from the other side of the room as she brought the morning coffee, "Should I make it disappear?"

"No." Mr. Kim said, accepting the coffee Freya offered. "I like it."

Across campus, Dorm D awoke to find, their dorm mother, Jessica Pinkerton, utterly terrified and hiding in a closet, and their dorm vandalized, covered in mysterious stylized question marks.

* * *

**And we are done! Well, with the first part anyways. Next chapter starts part two. **

**The flashback was really long, but hopefully interesting enough. I actually sort of liked writing Stan POV. I almost made the flashback the entire chapter, but I decided against it. I'm not a particular fan of flashback chapters myself.**

**I thought this chapter was kind of predictable, but that was a little inevitable with how much I borrowed from the show. I did twist Stan's story a little...well actually I sort of warped it quite a bit. Also, couldn't resist the infamous Mysterion scene. I loved that episode.**

**Anyways, I'm in Las Vegas right now so, um, probably won't be doing to much writing for a week. But I will try to update before the month ends.**

**Thank you to those who reviewed previously, and, as always, if you see typos that I missed feel free to point them out. Review always welcome.**

**~Lily**


	6. Chapter 6: Reports

Kenny paused for breath, inhaling the cool fall air, and letting a smile split his face.

"Think this is funny?" Clyde asked.

Kenny rolled his eyes and checked his stance. He was backed up into the corner of the ring. If he wanted to win this he needed to find a way to reverse the roles. He needed to get Clyde's back against a wall.

Clyde held up his own gloved hands threateningly and for a moment Kenny felt strange as it occurred to him how utterly bizarre this was compared to his life a few months ago. Sure he'd gotten into fights back home, but they had never been quite this much fun. Actually most of the time he ended up fighting for his life.

Clyde lunged at him and Kenny snapped out of it in time to duck and narrowly avoid a dislocated jaw.

"No head shots Donovan!" Mr. Garret yelled from outside the ring.

Clyde scowled, and turned to mouth off to Garret, giving Kenny his opening. He lunged forward, and threw two jabs.

Clyde didn't see it coming. He was knocked back and nearly off his feet. He spun around, preparing to launch a counter, only to meet Kenny's final blow.

Kenny was hard pressed to say he wasn't satisfied with the way Clyde doubled over, complaining about the unfairness of it all.

"McCormick, that was joyful. I don't think you understand how it warms my heart to see Donovan in pain." Mr. Garret said as he stepped into the ring.

Today class was taking place outside, in the grassy fields of SAKI's private park. Garret had marked out a makeshift ring with chalk, and set everyone who wasn't sparring to do laps around the school. As Kenny and Clyde bumped gloves, the first of their classmates was just coming back from their trip around the campus.

"I really am proud. Way to knock that smirk off of Donovan's face," Garret said.

Clyde grumbled.

"Next time, try not to let him back you into a corner. You don't want to get stuck like that. Now, both of you, water up, then give me two laps."

At that both Kenny and Clyde let out a groan, and stumbled over to the shaded area by the side of the building where the class had left their water.

"Slave-driver," Clyde grumbled, before taking a gulp.

Kenny laughed, and drank his own water. After he had his fill, he tightened his shoelaces and took off at a sprint.

"Race you!" he called to Clyde, before he disappeared around the corner.

* * *

"Hey guys," Kenny said, sliding into his usual seat between Tammy and Kyle at lunch.

The dining hall was as loud as ever, and Dorm E was right in the middle of it. Well most of them. Ike and Karen were in the middle school, and Annie and Powder sat with some other girls across, the hall. The rest of the dorm, including Stan and Kyle who had taken to sitting next to each other after their disappearing act a month ago, sat together. Unfortunately including Cartman.

There was a murmur of greeting from the rest of the table (with a snide remark from Cartman), before everyone went back to their own conversations.

"How was Garret?" Kyle asked, picking at his food, but not really eating, too distracted by a mountain of paperwork sitting next to his plate.

"Still claiming none of us are as good as his once star pupil, a Mr. Broflovski, but he went easy on us today."

Kyle chuckled, and stole a role off of Kevin's plate as the boy walked by and took his seat at the table.

"Dude, eat your own food." Kevin complained.

"You're finally here." Tammy snapped the textbook she'd been reading shut and looked up at them.

Kevin looked around frantically. "Did I do something?"

"No," Kyle said, "But the family's meeting tonight."

Kenny paused, fork halfway to his mouth. "Wait, all of us?"

"Yep." Tammy said. "It's progress report week. Me and Kyle will be getting your reports next period, and I expect all of you to be in dorms tonight."

"So, wait, you and Kyle, actually get to see our report cards?" Kenny said, feeling his appetite leave him.

"Of course. We sponsor you, after all."

Kenny looked back down at his food. He suddenly wasn't hungry.

It wasn't that he didn't like school, he loved this place. He was just, really bad at it. And what did it matter if he couldn't find the slope of a line? It was just stupid.

"Don't worry too much, Ken," Tammy said, looking concerned, "It's just a progress report."

"Hey there. Do you mind if we sit here? Thanks."

Without waiting for an answer, a beautiful black haired girl took a seat at Dorm E's table, squeezing between Kyle and Stan.

"What? No. No." Cartman said, standing up. "She is not sitting with us."

The girl cast an icy gaze down the table at Cartman, but didn't say anything as the rest of her group began to fill in, stealing the empty seats and pulling up chairs. Among them were Powder and Annie, and a busty blonde Kenny had seen several times in the halls, who pulled up a chair between him and Kyle, leaving almost no room at the table. Not that Kenny was complaining.

Tammy and Kevin both looked disgruntled at the sudden invasion but didn't complain. Tammy chatted reluctantly with a few of the girls.

"Hey Kyle." The blonde chick gave Kyle a dazzling smile.

Kyle, who'd been frowning, and generally looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, paused.

"Oh. Hey Bebe."

Kenny could have smacked the guy. Here was a hot, really hot, girl, sliding up next to him, and smiling, obviously _trying_ to get his attention, and Kyle was acting like it was the most mundane everyday occurrence. Kenny would kill to be in Kyle's place.

"So boys," the black haired girl began, and everyone, including the half dozen girls who'd just invaded their table, immediately fell silent. Whoever this girl was, she knew how to command attention. Even Cartman shut his fat mouth. "I want you to know, I come in peace."

"Yeah right, fuck off, ho."

"Oh no. I mean it. No matter how this election turns out, all of us will be working together on student council, and I think it's important we get to know each other. That way there won't be any misgivings."

Oh. Well that all suddenly made sense. Ever since Cartman had delivered the news, nobody had talked about anything but the election. The first speech for the candidates was being held on the upcoming Tuesday. This black haired girl must have been the Wendy Testaburger everyone talked about, the third candidate.

"Oh there's gonna be misgivings. Stan, make her leave." Cartman said.

"What? Why me?"

Everyone turned their attention to Stan, who looked, almost sick. Kenny was pretty sure the kid was about to lose his lunch.

"We can sit here if we want, isn't that right Stan?" Wendy said, batting her eyelashes in his direction.

Stan clasped his hands to his mouth and nodded stiffly.

"So Kyle," Wendy said, turning her attention on the red head, who had been effectively avoiding getting involved by burying his nose in his homework, "are you ready for Tuesday?"

To Kenny's surprise Kyle faltered as he spoke. "I. Yes, I mean—"

"I'm sure Kyle will be amazing." Bebe cut in, and if Kenny was seeing correctly, he was pretty sure the blonde sent a glare Wendy's way.

Wendy shrugged it off. "I personally can't wait. I've been practicing for weeks."

Kyle looked like he wanted to disappear. Kenny kicked him under the table, though if Bebe's narrowed eyes were any indication he missed, and sent Kyle what he hoped was an encouraging look.

Kyle smiled a little, and straightened up.

"Yeah. I guess it will be fun," he said.

"This is ridiculous." Cartman said from his side of the table. "We don't want you here Wendy. Take your bitches and leave."

The girl sitting next to Cartman, glared

"So are we sitting here now?"

Kenny turned. Clyde, Craig, and Token of Dorm F stood with their lunches, watching the table. They looked caught between curiosity, and wanting to move as far away as possible.

Clyde made the first move.

"Hey babe," Clyde said, walking over to their table, bending to peck Bebe on the lips, and very purposefully insert himself between her and Kyle. Whatever elbowroom had been left at the table promptly vanished as Dorm F filled in.

"Aw, really? We're really going to let them do this?" Cartman said.

Craig flipped him off.

Kenny ignored it all in favor of ogling Bebe in disbelief.

"Eyes off her McCormick," Clyde warned.

"Seriously, what is she doing with you? Did you blackmail her or something?" Kenny asked.

"I'll have you know I love Clyde very much." Bebe sniffed.

Kenny could have laughed. He'd been around the block a few times himself, and if the way Bebe's eyes kept flashing towards Kyle were any indication, she didn't love Clyde half as much as she claimed.

"Yeah," Clyde said rather lamely. Clyde, for all his thick-headedness, wasn't a complete idiot, Kenny would give him that, and whether he realized that his girlfriend was mentally undressing Kyle or not, he did seem to understand that his relationship wasn't exactly safe.

Kyle, oblivious to the tension stretching over the table, chatted nervously with Wendy.

"I should warn you," Wendy tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled sweetly. "speech and debate is my strong suit. I run the debate team. What do you plan on highlighting? I think our ineffective system of assigning workloads should be addressed. And expanding our field trip budget should be a priority. What do you think?"

Yeah," Kyle said. "I guess there isn't much I would change. I mean, I like our school the way it is. Though it would be nice if I could get Hanukah off instead of Christmas."

"Oh I'm sure. I'm really disappointed in Mr. Kim and our previous student administrations that they're so inconsiderate of our diverse student body. What do you think Stan?"

Stan blanched. "I…I um…I think…"

Kenny might not have known Stan very well, but sitting there and watching the guy drown was painful. He decided to spare the kid, and threw him a lifeline.

"Anything Kyle says, of course. Dorm E all the way and all that."

Wendy glared at him. "Nobody asked you."

Kenny tried not to falter himself. This girl was beautiful, but also scary as hell.

"I need to go." Stan stood up from the table, rattling drinks and food as he stood. He ran out of the hall, hand over his mouth. The table watched him go in silence.

"What's his problem?" Clyde asked.

"I'll go check on him." Kyle said, getting up and following Stan's path out of the hall, effectively escaping both Wendy's interrogation and Bebe's eyes.

Kenny watched him go. It was funny, for someone who claimed not to know Stan all that well, Kyle sure seemed to be close to him these days.

He turned back around to see Wendy was watching as well, looking bothered about something.

"Maybe he ate something bad." Bebe said.

"Yeah. Maybe." Wendy said, but she didn't seem all that cheered up.

* * *

"Stan?" Kyle called.

He'd only left the lunch hall to escape from Wendy, he'd really hadn't had a clue as to where Stan had gone. Fortunately he was easy enough to find, and he managed to track the boy down to one of the first floor bathrooms.

Like everything in SAKI, the bathrooms were over the top. Shining marble floors clean enough you could eat off them lined the white walled room with its half dozen sturdy stalls and urinals. The brass sink was set in a marble counter in front of an enormous, ceiling high mirror. In the far corner was a separate room with a couple shower stalls for anyone coming straight from gym class.

Kyle heard retching. Stan was definitely in here.

"Dude, are you okay?"

He heard a muffled reply, and suddenly Stan's head popped out of the door to one of the stalls.

"Stan?"

Stan opened his mouth to say something, turned green, then ducked back into the stall to release his lunch to the toilet.

Kyle cringed and kept his distance while the other boy finished up.

"Sick, man," he said, when Stan recovered.

Stan sat on the floor, leaning against the stall wall, hands over his face as he groaned in pain.

"You were fine earlier." Kyle said, "Is this withdrawal or something?"

"I don't drink that much," Stan said defensively.

"Sorry, sorry, but, I mean, what then?"

Stan sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I really like Wendy."

Kyle halted. "What?"

"I mean. She makes me really nervous. And I really like her I just. I'm never going to be able to talk to her. I get so nervous I, well, you saw."

Kyle looked between Stan and the toilet, concern creasing his brow. "Dude. I don't think that's normal. Or healthy. Are you sure you're not sick?"

"I'm fine." Stan scowled, and climbed to his feet. "It's just nerves, that's all. Can't believe I'm even talking to you about this."

Stan shoved passed Kyle and out of the bathroom. Kyle let him go.

"Some nerves," Kyle muttered.

* * *

Late afternoon and the others would arrive any minute. Kyle rushed, closing out windows and logging off his laptop as quickly as he could. He didn't want to be late.

For the past month he'd been looking into the security breach that occurred when Kenny first arrived at SAKI. So far had found him nothing, and it was getting frustrating.

He slammed the laptop shut, cursing the updated security systems and glaring in the direction he knew Freya to have planted a camera in his room. The woman had no sense of privacy.

He sat back, and looked around his room. It was messy, Ike hadn't made his bed, and half of their shared library had been torn up that morning in the search for one of Ike's philosophy textbook. Kenny was probably picking him up with Karen right now.

Kenny was a funny kid, Kyle had decided. Nice, but odd. He'd adjusted quickly to SAKI and the way the program worked, but there was still something off.

Kenny was a puzzle. He was hiding something, Kyle knew that much, and so far he'd barely gotten hints as to what it was. It bothered him, like these things always did. It was like when he first heard of the Mole. A mystery just dying to be solved. It was frustrating, and oddly fascinating, and he would figure this out. Eventually.

Kyle grabbed a stack of papers of his desk. He had an election to plan for, he could worry about Kenny later. Maybe he'd get Ike to read through his speech for him.

* * *

Kenny sat in the common room with Kyle, Tammy, Kevin, Ike and Karen. The rest of the dorm had gone off to meet their respective school families about their own progress reports. Kenny didn't know who would sponsor Cartman, but he pitied the soul.

The group sat on the rug in the center of the room in a loose circle, TV muted in the background.

"All right," Tammy said, holding up a stack of papers, "Let's start, kay?"

She ripped open the first envelope.

Kenny held his breath. He didn't actually know what kind of grades he had right now, but if the marks on his last English quiz were anything to go by, he was royally screwed.

"Okay, so this is Karen's." Tammy said. "Wow. That's really good."

She passed the bright yellow paper over to Karen who snatched it up and scanned it herself. Kenny peered over her shoulder, relieved at the delay and also somewhat curious. He knew that Karen must have gotten better grades than him, but she'd never really talked about it.

A long line of As and Bs peered back at him, alongside very nice notes from each of Karen's teachers.

"Whoa." He said.

Karen noticed his staring and folded the paper in a panic, sending him a pouty look.

"Sorry, sorry."

Kyle opened the next envelope.

"Kevin, you need to get your math scores up." He said, passing the yellow slip to Kevin, and pulling out another envelope to hand to Tammy.

"And Ike is, brilliant, as always." Tammy said, passing Ike his report.

Ike accepted with a smug smile.

"Which leaves Kenny." Tammy picked up the last envelope. "Ready Ken?"

No, Kenny was definitely not ready, thank you.

She ripped it open.

Kenny watched as Tammy's face morphed from amused to shocked, and finally nervous.

"Well?" Kyle asked, looking up from what must have been his own report when he noticed the silence.

"Well. Um. Ken, hon, you're doing really well in Garret's class." Tammy said, handing Kenny his report.

Kyle snatched it before Kenny could take it away.

Kyle scanned through the paper, eyes narrowing. He looked up at Kenny with a shocked look.

"Dude." He said.

Kenny shrugged and tried not to feel too terribly mortified. "I'm bad at school."

"You suck at school." Kyle corrected.

Kevin, not to be left out, looked over Kyle's shoulder at Kenny's report. "How did you pass the entrance exam?"

Oh no. Oh no no no no. This was all going in a very bad direction. He just wanted to be normal, whatever normal was. He didn't need the prejudices of his home town following him into his new life. So maybe there was some rule bending to get Kenny into this school, so maybe someone as dirt poor and hopeless as him shouldn't have gotten in. He was here now, and those secrets were in the past.

"Luck." Everyone looked at Kenny strangely, and he realized how choked he sounded. "I mean I. Heh, I'm kind of stupid and well I got lucky."

"You're not stupid." Kyle said, finally handing over his report, "We just need a strategy."

"A strategy?" Kevin asked.

Kenny took a look at his report. He was acing Self Defense I, managing a D in Math, F in English, C in biology, F in French, F in History, and a C in Survival. Compared to his past report cards, it was actually fairly impressive.

"I know." Kyle said, "We'll just tutor you."

"Tutor?" Now Kenny was interested. He'd never gone to any of the tutoring sessions offered by his old school.

"I know Mr. Brown offers lunch tutoring." Kyle said, "And I can help you with math after school on Mondays."

"I can help you're English grade too." Tammy said. "And I can probably help with French if you want to meet on Saturdays."

"Really?" Kenny asked. He was a little surprised, though not ungrateful. Tammy and Kyle, Kyle especially, always seemed to be doing homework. He wasn't sure how they had time to help him too.

"And Kev can do the rest." Tammy said.

"I can?"

"Sure, you're decent in school, right? And you already help him in Garret's class, right?"

"Yeah, a little bit." Kenny said.

This prompted further discussion, and slowly, the atmosphere began to relax. Kevin agreed to take on a chunk of Kenny's new tutoring schedule, and Kyle and Tammy got into a deep discussion on how best to go about teaching this stuff. Most of the things they were talking about were way over Kenny's level, but they were so into the idea he really didn't have the heart to tell them so.

Karen and Ike were apparently in their own world, chatting off in the corner about something Kenny couldn't hear and overall, this had all turned out much better than he had hoped. So, Kenny relaxed, and enjoyed the evening.

"Hey, Kenny?" Powder popped her head in the door a couple hours later. The group paused mid laughter to look over at the straight faced red head.

"Er, yeah?"

"You've got a letter. From the headmaster."

Kenny's stomach dropped. His grades were below average, and part of the contract Kenny was under insisted that he get passing grades, and well, he wasn't. If Mr. Kim was so inclined, he could kick Kenny out of the school. If he got kicked out, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He wasn't worried about himself. He could survive on the street, or, heaven forbid, at home, but Karen was doing well here. She didn't deserve to get booted just because her dimwit older brother couldn't pass some stupid ass tests. Maybe he could talk Mr. Kim into letting her stay.

"I'm sure it's nothing." Kyle said, but he didn't sound so sure.

Kenny jogged over to Powder and took the pale envelope.

"Thanks, Powder."

"Next time, make someone else your mailman." Powder stalked back to the kitchen.

Kenny found a quiet corner and sat down. He hesitated, staring at his name name scrawled onto the front of the envelope for a moment longer, before tearing it open.

_Dear Mr. McCormick,_

_ Report to my office tomorrow when classes begin, something important has come up. And bring Mr. Broflovski._

_Sincerely, Headmaster Kim_

* * *

**Sorry this took so long. I should be back on a fairly normal schedule now. But again, sorry, and thank you for sticking around. This chapter was fairly short, but also ridiculously important. Anyways, hope you liked it. R****eviews welcome, and what not.**

**~Lily**


	7. Chapter 7: Leopold

Chapter 7

Kenny stood outside the door to the headmaster's office, Kyle by his side, waiting to be buzzed in by Freya. Kenny had shared the letter with Kyle last night, and both of them had woken up early for breakfast and headed down to the headmaster's office together.

A click sounded, and the door opened.

"Just Mr. McCormick, please," Mr. Kim's voice called.

Kenny gave Kyle a worried look over his shoulder and disappeared into the office. The door snapped shut behind him.

"Mr. McCormick," Mr. Kim said. The man sat behind his grand oak desk, hands folded under his chin and elbows resting on the desk top, which was empty save a single manila envelope. He looked exactly the way he had when Kenny first met him. Brown silk suit, hazel crescent moon eyes, and a kind smile.

There were no chairs, and Kenny doubted he would have used one anyways. Despite the office's open, homey appearance, Kenny was all nerves.

"You wanted to see me sir?" Kenny asked.

Mr. Kim didn't answer right away. He took the time to sip his coffee, and look Kenny over carefully. Seeming to come to a decision, he nodded to himself, and spoke.

"If you recall, we had a deal."

Kenny stiffened. Maybe this was about his grades after all.

"You have," Mr. Kim continued, "some highly unique abilities. And I see it fit now to utilize those talents. I have something I need you to do for me. Think of it as your tuition."

Mr. Kim picked up the manila envelope from his desk and held it out for Kenny to take.

Kenny felt both relieved or terrified. At least he wasn't being kicked out. When he'd agreed to Mr. Kim's proposal, he'd been concentrating on how to get him and Karen out of the hell hole that was their home. Mr. Kim had held up his end of the deal, and now it looked like it was Kenny's turn. He would do whatever it was Mr. Kim asked. He had no choice. But he couldn't help but worry about what kind of task Mr. Kim needed done if he needed Kenny's special abilities.

At Mr. Kim's reassuring nod he opened the envelope.

Inside lay a paper entitled "Operation Orders". Kenny skimmed through it quickly and frowned.

"You want me to bring in a new student?"

"That is correct. Is there a problem?"

"Well, I just don't see how this relates to, er, my abilities."

Mr. Kim laughed. "Dear boy, not everything I ask of you pertains to that particular skill. No, in fact, you have other talents that will be much more useful I think."

Kenny let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He would be okay this time, it seemed.

"So," Kenny asked, feeling much better, and reading the document a little more carefully. It looked like he'd be going back to his home town, which explained why Mr. Kim wanted him to do this, and also put a rock of dread in his stomach, "why's Kyle coming?"

"Ah, Mr. Broflovski. Of course. Freya, if you please?" Mr. Kim said.

The door to the office slid open.

Kyle walked in, still tense, and came to a halt next to Kenny before the desk.

"Mr. Broflovski, please, relax." Mr. Kim said, smiling.

If anything, Kyle tensed more, as his eyes darted about the room. Kenny had a feeling that the guy was picking apart every possible escape route available should he suddenly be attacked.

"Mr. Broflovski, you and Mr. McCormick are being assigned a special project."

That got Kyle's attention. He paused in his scanning of the room, eyes locking on Mr. Kim.

"We've discovered a young man who we believe will be a fine addition to this academy. I am sending you and Mr. McCormick out to meet with him and his parents. They are not expecting you, and in fact, have no idea about our interest in their son, so please use tact. You will find a script enclosed with your directions. I suggest you follow it."

Kenny flipped through the papers to find there was indeed a script. A cheesy one at that.

"I—thank you sir," Kyle said, looking as surprised as Kenny had felt, "but, if I may ask, why are we doing this?"

Here Mr. Kim nodded, as if he had been expecting this question. "I was wondering when you'd ask. Mr. Broflovski, part of student government's job is to handle admissions, except in the cases I get personally involved in, you and the others will be fully in charge of finding and bringing in new students."

"Oh." Kyle said, "So this is a test?"

"Indeed."

Kenny watched quietly. Kyle seemed to gain a new understanding of what was going on, while he himself became somewhat lost.

"Well." Mr. Kim said, "you both have your directions. Go pack your things and be prepared to depart in an hour. Pack well, you may be gone for quite some time. You are dismissed."

* * *

"This is bullshit." Cartman said, glaring down at the letter like he might somehow be able to change what was written.

Wendy sighed and checked her watch. This had to be the fifth time they'd gone over this.

"I told you, it's straight from the headmaster. I don't like it very much either, but we don't have a choice."

"Don't have a—? Fuck that. This is just those spoiled bureaucrats' attempts to undermine my success. I have an election to win, I am not going to be side tracked by some retarded open house bullshit."

Wendy could feel her patience beginning to wear thin. She wasn't about to agree with Cartman, of all people, but he had a point. Mr. Kim shouldn't have been sending them on some ridiculous goose chase when there were actual problems at hand.

They were in an empty classroom in the west wing of the school. A series of colorful styrofoam planets hung from the ceiling at various points in their orbit, and a map of the night sky had been painted onto the wall where the white board should have been. The desks were arranged in a semicircle around a device Wendy suspected would project an image of the night sky. It was this device that Cartman was leaning against as he glared down at the letter.

"That's it, I'm out." Cartman said, moving to tear the letter to shreds.

Wendy snatched the letter back, horrified with Cartman's behavior.

"This is from Mr. Kim!"

"I don't care."

Wendy glared, and examined the letter to make sure it was unharmed. Her eyes scanned over the words briefly. She'd only read it once before going straight to Cartman to get an explanation. Mr. Kim requested in the letter that, on Wednesday, Cartman and she were to show a special guest around campus. A reporter of some kind. Normally Wendy would be all over it, but she already worked hard to keep up with classes, and the election required special attention.

"We don't have a choice." Wendy repeated. What was she going to do anyways? Cartman couldn't be relied on for something like this. Mr. Kim had to be insane. Or be testing her patience.

Wendy froze. She could have hit herself for missing something so obvious.

"Don't you see you dumbass?" she said, "This is a test. If we can't do this, how do you think student council will work out?"

Cartman fell silent. She could see the gears turning as he reexamined his options.

"Fine." He managed to ground out. "I'll work with you. But don't think for a second you're going to win this. I don't want to be here."

With that he stormed out.

Wendy sighed. This was going to be a lot more work than she really wanted to handle right now.

* * *

Kenny watched the passing scenery, stomach turning knots over, and hands clutched tightly on his knees. He couldn't believe he was going back. The trees slowly began to thin, and Kenny actually thought he recognized some of them as they drew closer to his hometown.

Across from him Kyle's nose was glued to a sleek black phone, a Blackberry, and he seemed completely oblivious to the growing tension rising in Kenny's chest.

The two of them were seated in a limousine, courtesy of the Kim Institute. The inside was lined with black leather. There were seat heaters, which Kenny would have thoroughly enjoyed on any other occasions, a table, cup holders, even an outlet for Kyle's laptop, which the other boy had insisted on not leaving behind.

The two of them had been gifted brand new uniforms, sleek navy blue with gold accents, as well as an array of other outfits to keep them stocked on the trip. It was all rather disorienting. Kenny imagined this was what it felt like to be royalty, or Bill Gates or something.

Slowly but surely a town began to distinguish itself from the rest of the Colorado scenery. Soon the limo slid past a decrepit sign, 'South Park' painted on it in fading black.

Kenny couldn't help but stare as they rolled through town. Everything felt so familiar, and at the same time alien. A month at a place like SAKI really put things in perspective.

They passed the old gas station, the school, the grocers. Kenny watched it all go by silently.

Kyle looked up.

"This is it?" he asked.

Kenny nodded. He'd filled Kyle in on this being his hometown fairly early into the drive. He hadn't mentioned the other details of his and Mr. Kim's talk, but Kyle seemed happy not to ask.

Kyle leaned forward and pressed a button on the speaker embedded in the divider separating them from their driver.

"We'll be heading to the Stotch household first."

"Just sit down!" a grating voice screeched back at them.

Kyle sat back. "She's pleasant."

Kenny smiled a little, but in the end returned to looking out the window. He really shouldn't have been this nervous but the further they drove the more he wanted to go back.

The limo took several slow turns through pedestrian neighborhoods Kenny vaguely remembered. They were far nicer than the slum he had lived in.

Eventually the limo pulled up to a two story house, nearly identical to all the others. The lawn was trimmed, the car in the driveway was moderately nice, the flowers had been planted in orderly rows. Everything felt very average middle class America.

From the seat across from him Kyle grinned. "Ready?"

"I guess." Kenny said.

They stepped out of the car, Kyle leaving the driver instructions to wait on the corner.

As Kenny looked around he realized the amount of attention they'd drawn to themselves. Kid's had stopped on the street corners, and parents had gone to the window to try and see who the two strangers in the limousine were.

Kenny ducked his head. Wouldn't want anyone he knew recognizing him.

He and Kyle trotted up to the door way.

"Stick to the script." Kyle said, before ringing the doorbell.

A few minutes passed, and Kenny started to feel uncomfortable. The mountains weren't exactly warm in the fall.

Finally the door swung open. A blonde woman, in a brown blouse and heavy skirt greeted them with a stiff faced hello.

"Ah, hello ma'am, my name is Kyle Broflovski, and this is my associate Kenneth McCormick. We were wondering if we could speak with you and your husband."

The woman continued to watch them.

Kyle shuffled awkwardly and tried again. "Um, is your husband home?"

"Yes. Stephen?"

"Yes Linda?" A middle aged man, with curly brown hair and a steaming cup of coffee came to the door. "Who is it?"

"We're from the Kim Institute." Kenny cut it.

"The Kim Institute?" Stephen said. "I haven't heard of it."

"That's why we're here." Kenny gave them his best smile. "We'd like to talk to you and your son about—"

"Butters! What did that son of ours do now? Don't worry, we'll deal with him."

Kyle and Kenny exchanged a look.

"He's not in trouble sir," Kyle said. "We wanted to enroll him. In our school. It's a very prestigious academy and we believe your son, a Leopold Stotch? Would make a fine addition."

Mr. and Mrs. Stotch looked dumbstruck.

"Only the best school in the nation, actually." Kyle added helpfully.

The two turned to each other. Whatever it was they were thinking they obviously were perfectly in tune with each other. With a nod they turned back around.

"While we really appreciate your interest, now really isn't a great time…" Linda said.

Kyle flipped out his phone and a card. He handed the card to Linda. "Here's our info. Contact us any time. Any idea of when it would be better to drop in?"

"Tomorrow." Stephen said. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

With that the door slammed in their faces. Muffled voices could be heard through the door, but Kenny couldn't tell whether they were arguing or not.

"They were strange." Kenny said.

"Tell me about it. Wish Kim could pick normal students for once." Kyle said, putting tomorrows appointment with the Stotches into his calendar.

They turned and headed back to the limo. There was an uneasiness Kenny couldn't explain about this place and he didn't want to stick around. He knew trouble when he saw it. And, as Kenny got in the limo, he looked up in time to spot a pale, curious face pressed against the second story window.

* * *

Wendy paced the length of the room again, paused half way to give Cartman a once over, shook her head, and waved him back into the other room.

"This is fucking stupid." Cartman said, storming into the adjacent classroom to get changed.

"Image is vital to a good presentation." Wendy said.

The special guest would be arriving in two days. Wendy already had the tour and speeches planned out. She'd been up until the early hours perfecting them. The final touch was to get their own looks prepared, and to brief Cartman, Neither of which sounded like much fun, both of which were happening now. They were using an empty class and hall at the back of the school. Classes had ended, and most people were at clubs or sports anyways. Wendy had gone to the fashion department and grabbed anything they could give her by way of plus sized suits. Which wasn't much.

Wendy carried a legal pad as she paced, chock full of notes and ideas.

"I'm thinking we'll start with the computer labs. Show off the schools advancement as well as budget."

Cartman gave a muffled response.

Wendy halted and sighed. "What?"

"I said," Cartman repeated as he stepped back out into the hallway. "That's a stupid ass idea. We should show them the fields first. Get the football team to do a scrimmage while we're out there. That's all anyone cares about."

Wendy sighed and ripped another page out of her legal pad. "That suit's too small. And I think the updates in the technology department are cool."

"This suit is not too small." Cartman cried, pulling on the ghost grey suit, trying to make it sit at a better angle. It was no use, and the figure it cut was deformed with the strain of holding in Cartman's weight.

"It's too small." Wendy said. "Try that."

He grabbed the dark blue suit she pointed to and disappeared back into the class. Wendy continued to glare at her notes.

She hated to admit it but Cartman had a point. The first thing almost anyone asked about at schools was the sports. It was a sad but miserable truth.

"You like Stan, right?"

Wendy's head snapped up and she spluttered as Cartman emerged from the classroom, this time in a suit that fit.

"What?" she said.

"It's obvious, and I'm about ninety percent sure it's mutual, so why don't you go talk to him about getting the team out there to show off or whatever."

Wendy grudgingly had to admit, it wasn't a terrible idea.

"And what about the technology department?" she asked, still seething.

Cartman shrugged. "Eh, that's not really important. But I guess we could get one of those nerds to show us the flight simulator."

"But that's not new!"

"But it's cool, and we want to make our school look cool."

Wendy rubbed a hand over her eyes. This was all going swimmingly.

"Fine." She said. "Now take that suit and get changed back into your own clothes. We have preparations to make."

* * *

Kyle Broflovski leaned forward a little to try and catch his reflection in the low hanging mirror. For being the nicest hotel in town, the Comfort Inn could have used some improvements.

He adjusted his tie, double checked that his uniform was spotless and straightened up.

"I'm going to go meet the Stotches!" he shouted.

From the other room he heard a muffled reply and scowled.

He and Kenny had received the largest suite the hotel had to offer. It was a two bedroom suite, with separate bathrooms, and a kitchen-living room at the center. It was practically an apartment.

Kyle stepped out of the bathroom and into the living room.

"Kenny?"

A blonde head rose from a mountain of blankets on the couch.

Kyle sighed. "You need to get ready. You're going to be briefing Leopold today."

"S'crime to name 'er kid 'at," Kenny mumbled.

"What? You know what. Never mind. Get dressed. You should have been up an hour ago. Try not to take too long. We're supposed to give the kid a ride to school."

Kenny proceeded to stand and trip over his own feet on his way to the kitchen, waving off Kyle's warnings, and yanking open the fridge.

"Right, well." Kyle sighed and decided to make his way out of the room regardless of Kenny's readiness. He'd text him later. Right now he wanted to try out the complimentary breakfast.

* * *

"This breakfast is rubbish." Kenny said, forcing down a sponge like egg he'd managed to snag from the morning buffet before Kyle dragged him away, and nearly choking on it as the limo hit a pothole, "Watch it woman! Seriously, who is driving this thing?"

Kyle smiled, but his thoughts were preoccupied with his meeting plans, and neither he nor Kenny were in too much of a good mood. In fact, ever since Kenny found out they were doing this he'd been a lot quieter. South Park was Kenny's hometown, Kyle knew that much, but Kenny seemed to hate this place a lot more than seemed healthy. Kyle was honestly glad the guy was joking again. He'd been silent as death yesterday.

Kyle felt nervous for completely different reasons of course. He hadn't expected Kim to throw an assignment like this at him.

"I was thinking you could shadow Leopold for the day." Kyle said, flipping through his phone. He'd uploaded most of the documents from the file Kim had handed him to the blackberry, which included a schedule Freya had put together, but even so, another briefcase full of paperwork by his side, and if all went well, they'd be signed and filed before the day was out.

"Shadow, like, at school?"

"I don't see why not. We're going to need to pick up the transcripts and talk to the school anyways. No point in two of us talking to the parents. Sound good?"

Kenny frowned, and fiddled with the edge of the paper plate on his lap.

"Kenny?"

"Yeah. Sounds good." He smiled, but it was forced.

Kyle sighed. He wasn't sure what was up with Kenny, but he'd have to asked later. The limo pulled into the driveway of the Stotch household.

The two got out without a word and went up to the door. It opened almost immediately.

"Ah, hello. Please come in." Mrs. Stotch said, stepping aside. She appeared much warmer than yesterday.

She led them to the kitchen. The inside of the house was a lot like the outside, clean, well ordered, very Stepford, in Kyle's opinion, but then again his own home hadn't been much different.

They settled at the kitchen table, and Mr. Stotch entered shortly, taking his own seat.

"Ah, Butters? Come down sweetie, we need to talk." Mrs. Stotch called, before taking her seat.

"Coming Mom!" a voice called.

"They call their son Butters?" Kenny muttered, smirking.

Kyle elbowed him and prayed the Stotches hadn't heard.

A boy appeared on the stairwell. "H-hello."

Kyle glanced over at him curiously. Butters was blonde, a really pale blonde, with hair that looked like no amount of combing could tame it. He wore a pale blue sweater, and off-white khakis, with loafers. Kyle didn't like thinking about his time in public school much, and he'd been at SAKI so long he really didn't know how kids dressed these day, but he was about ninety percent sure no one he'd known ever dressed like Butters.

"Butters, this is Mr. Broflovski and Mr. McCormick. They're here to talk about school."

Butters face fell, and he shuffled forward and hovered by the table. There were no seats left, but neither parent made a move to get up or get another seat.

"Right, well." Kyle said, and placed the briefcase on the table, popping it open and sliding it across the table, "As I said yesterday, we're here to offer your son a place at our school."

The entire time Kyle talked he watched Butters out of the corner of his eye, trying to find what it was Mr. Kim found so valuable about Butters that he sent Kyle and Kenny out to haggle with his parents. All he could see was nervous boy who flinched away from the slightest movements.

"Yes, well, we'd love to say that it's so easy." Mr. Stotch began, eyeing the paperwork.

"Don't worry sir, we're fully prepared to negotiate price and accommodations. In the meantime, we'd like to offer your son a ride to school."

"In the limo?"

"Yes. In the limo."

Butters looked utterly confused, but fortunately Kenny took his cue. He stood up, smiling at the other boy and gesturing for him to follow him to the door.

Butters looked back mournfully.

"Go with the nice boy Butters." His mother said, and Butters trudged after Kenny.

Kyle turned back to face Butters parents once he was sure the two were out of the house.

"Now, Mr. Broflovski," Mr. Stotch said, "What, exactly do you mean by accommodations?"

Kyle sighed. Mr. Stotch was going to try to squeeze as many benefits out of this as he could, he could just tell.

"Because if you expect us to sell Butters for anything less than 150 million there may be a problem."

Kyle considered telling Mr. Stotch this wasn't a sales transaction, but something about the way the man's eyes were gleaming made Kyle think it would be no use. Instead he slid his phone out of his pocket and sent Freya a text under the table while trying to maintain a smile.

_Kyle: So what exactly is our budget for this thing?_

_ Freya: Depends… How much do you like that hotel room you're staying in :) ?_

This was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

"So, Butters, right?" Kenny asked when they'd left the house.

"Th-that's right." Butters said, giving a really bad fake smile.

Kenny sighed internally. God this would be a long day. Fortunately he had no idea who this Butters kid was, which meant Butters probably would have no idea who he was. That was a plus.

Kenny opened the door for Butters, and after looking back at the house, again, Butters got into the Limo with minimal argument. He seemed somehow caught, like he wanted to stay, or maybe he was to terrified to leave.

Kenny slid into the limo.

"So." He said, as they pulled away from the Stotch household. "Tell me about your school."

Butters looked surprised. Actually the kid was kind of perpetually surprised, by everything, not that two guys in suits with a limo on his doorstep wasn't surprising just, Butters seemed _really_ jumpy.

"Well, I like it. It's really nice, ya know? And I have friends there, and…" Butters trailed off, twirling his thumbs, and sitting stiffly, hands in his lap. He seemed like he wanted to talk, but wasn't sure if it was allowed.

Kenny nodded, trying his best to be encouraging. He knew how these turtle kids worked. Karen was just like it. A complete chatter box when she and Kenny were alone, but as soon as a large crowd passes by, back into the shell like she'd never left it in the first place.

He must have done something right because Butters graced him with a ridiculous smile and continued. "Well, anyways. My friends and I are going to the mall on Saturday see. I actually really like the mall, my favorite store is this little shop. I think it's owned by a Japanese man and they this Hello Kitty bag…"

Kenny was kind of amazed. Butter just went on and on. It was kind of funny.

"Hello Kitty?" He asked.

He knew he was supposed to be nice to this kid, but really, it was like Butters _wanted_ to get beat up.

Butters frowned. "What's wrong with Hello Kitty? Lots of people like Hello Kitty."

"Nothing." Kenny shook his head, smiling, and let Butters carry on.

Butters was happy to talk, and Kenny had had a lot of practice listening, so they got on pretty well, even if Butters had some odd interests. He reminded Kenny of Kevin, just a little, with the way he said everything so sincerely, and waved his hands around as he spoke.

"And I actually don't like World of Warcraft all that much, but Francis said I had to play it." Butters said, throwing a hand up at the audacity of Francis to insist on such a thing.

Kenny would have laughed, but something caught his eye, and the weight that had been on him since he found out he'd be going to South Park returned. As Butters retracted his arm, he was so into what he was saying he didn't notice the sleeve had ridden up slightly, and a dark bruise marred the pale skin of his upper forearm.

Kenny felt angry. Angry on Butters behalf, because Butters was a bit too much like Karen for comfort, and it was all too easy to imagine it was her, sitting there, pretending nothing was wrong.

"Who did that?" Kenny asked.

Butters froze, eyes following Kenny's gaze. He yanked down his sleeve and Kenny watched as he almost visibly went back into his shell, hands folded on his lap, eyes downcast, chatter halted.

"It's nothing." Butters muttered.

"Kids at school?" Kenny asked.

Butters refused to speak, and for the rest of the ride Kenny sat there smoldering.

They arrived at the school within twenty minutes, and after making sure Butters knew to wait for him after school, Kenny grabbed some paperwork off the seat and headed for the front office. Butters was not staying in this place.

* * *

"Hey, Butters!" Kenny called when he spotted the boy in the cafeteria.

It hadn't taken long to get all of Butter's paperwork in order. Apparently Kyle had worked fast, because the Stotches had already called to inform the school of Kenny's arrival long before he got there. After some pointless flirting with the surprisingly young secretary, everything was set and ready to be shipped to SAKI. Things were going surprisingly well for the slow start they'd had, and Kenny was ready to deliver the good news.

"Oh, ah, hey Kenny." Butters said, smile faltering.

Kenny tried not to feel insulted, but it would have been nice if Butters could at least pretend to be happy Kenny was there.

"Hey." Kenny slid into line beside Butters, and grabbed a tray.

It was nostalgic being back in his old school. Everything from the lunch line to the walls was eerily familiar. It wasn't a good nostalgia though, Kenny's freshman year had been hell. Still, it was interesting to be back. He hadn't wanted to eat here, in the cafeteria where he'd sat so many times, on his own, or with a few other select losers. But as it turned out, the school didn't see it that way, and if Kenny wanted to eat, he was going to have to suffer the cafeteria food.

"Man, food hasn't gotten any better has it?" Kenny asked, only half joking as a wiry guy in a hairnet dumped a toxic looking meat and vegetable mix onto his tray.

Butters actually managed a genuine smile at that. Kenny counted it as a victory.

"I think I see an empty table over there." Kenny said, beginning to walk off in the direction of the only empty table in the room.

"Don't be silly I'm going to sit with my friends." Butters said.

"Your friends?" And that came out a lot more harsh and sarcastic than Lenny had meant but, in all honesty, the kid was named Butters, dressed like a dork, spoke like a third grader, kids like that didn't get friends in South Park.

"Yeah, my friends." Butters said, and stalked off. Kenny winced. He hadn't meant to insult the kid.

Kenny hesitated a moment, then decided to follow after. Honestly he was a little curious.

Butters made a beeline for a table full of guys, all about his age, maybe a little older, and Kenny felt his heart sink. He knew these kinds of guys. They weren't Butters friends. They were his tormenters. Bullies with false good intentions. And he would bet money they were the ones who gave Butters those bruises.

"Who's the kid Butters? Your boyfriend?" One, a slimy looking guy with slicked back black hair and an overly large hoodie, sneered in Kenny's direction.

"Oh, nah, this is Mr. McCormick."

"Mr. McCormick?" another guy said disbelievingly.

"Er yeah he's—"

"I'm here with my associate to convince Mr. Stotch to transfer to our academy." Kenny said.

"Great, so, a private school snob then."

Kenny sighed and took a seat at the very edge of the table as far away from the others as he could get. Butters had no problem sitting next to some nondescript brown haired kid.

"Butters, seriously? We don't want this asshole sitting with us." The black haired kid said.

Kenny was pretty sure he recognized him. His name was Dimitri or something. If he remembered correctly Dimitri was one of the jerks who hung around in the back of the class, tossing paper airplanes and beating up on the smaller kids. He also recognized a few other faces. Tyler, John, Alex, Francis, all kids he'd known from a distance. Kenny, unlike Butters, had never been stupid enough to fall prey to them, with the exception of one nasty fist fight, and had stayed in the circles of the dorks, nerds, and slightly less jerky guys.

"Ah, c'mon fellas, it's only for today." Butters said.

"Fine but you owe us for this." Dimitri grumbled and stabbed at his own food.

Kenny really didn't want to be there, but he refused to let Butters out of his sight with these guys. Kenny resolved in the end to do the same thing he'd done at SAKI when he had no idea what else to do. He sat silently, and watched.

* * *

Lunch had been a painful affair. Butters got up from the table to throw Francis' trash away, only to have Dimitri and Alex dump whatever they could find on the table into his food. This include a cartons worth of milk, spit, and ketchup, which Butters then ate at Dimitri's complaint that throwing food away was wasteful and disrespectful to starving children in Africa.

Butters also acted as their errand boy, he got them seconds, threw out their trash, and took the scolding whenever the teacher caught them throwing food.

Kenny was just glad lunch was only forty minutes. He wasn't sure how long he could go without saying anything, especially when Dimitri turned on him, with some comment about how it was public school tradition for the newcomer to drink some concoction he and his buddies had conjured.

Kenny shut that down quickly though. "I'm a private schooler, not a moron."

And Dimitri had skulked back to his own corner.

Lunch finally ended with a shrill bell, and Kenny stood immediately, thankful for the escape.

"Hey, you said your name was McCormick, right?"

Kenny froze. Oh crap.

"Yes," He said.

The Alex kid looked at him funny.

Kenny knew he was screwed. Alex had sat next to him in English all year last year, if any of those dorks would recognize him, it was this one. At least he was one of the more level headed ones.

"So, you aren't like, related to Kevin McCormick, are you? And the others, actually, I think there was a Kenny a while ago."

Kenny tripped over his words as he tried to form a reply. "Well, I. I mean."

"No way!" Alex's eyes went wide as he realized, "You're Kenny McCormick? Hey, guys—"

Kenny grabbed Alex and dragged him away from Dimitri and the others.

"You will not tell anyone," Kenny said, stopping and turning on Alex. "Not a word."

"And what's stopping me?" he asked, but it was less a challenge, more curiosity, which Kenny was happy to sate.

"I will kill you, do you understand. As far as anyone's concerned, I am just some kid, got it."

Alex jerked away and Kenny released him. The kid stumbled back glaring. "Fine, whatever."

Alex spoke like he didn't care, but the way he glanced warily over his shoulder as he hurried back to his buddies was enough to ensure Kenny he was scared.

But he wouldn't be for long. He needed to convince Butters to leave. Now.

* * *

"They aren't your friends, you know," was probably the worst way to open the conversation and definitely not in the script, but screw Freya anyways.

Butters stopped and turned to face Kenny. They were standing outside the school waiting for the limo to pick them up. This was the first time Kenny's seen the other boy since lunch. He'd been forced back to the office to finish up some paperwork, then been told he would not be allowed to follow Butters class to class, which put a stop to Kenny's original idea of playing bodyguard for the day. Though he supposed he was better off for it. No one else got the chance to recognize him.

"That's not true." Butters said. "Dimitri is my friend. I don't know why you don't like him."

Kenny sighed. Back to square one now.

"Can't you see he's making fun of you?"

"You're just jealous." Butters said, but it sounded less like an accusation, more like self-reassurance.

"No I'm—Look, I know those kids beat you up."

"They do not!"

"You have to tell your parents. Better yet, come to SAKI. You don't have to be the butt of the joke. You can have real friends—"

"Will you just shut up!" Butters screamed.

Kenny jumped back. Butters looked furious, and his eyes had that shiny look Karen's always got when she was close to crying.

"You don't know anything about me." Butters said, voice shaking. "I don't want your stupid school. Or your stupid friends. And there's nothing to tell my parents."

"Look, Butters, I just think you'd be better off with us, at SAKI." Kenny said, voice softer.

Butters turned away, anger gone from his face, like the energy had just drained out of him, and a much more heartbreaking, lost look taking its place.

"Well maybe I don't want to go." Butters said, voice so quiet Kenny almost couldn't hear, "You've got real nerve, ya know? You and that other guy come in here, like your rescuing me or something, but I like it here, and I don't wanna go to no private school, okay? I like my friends, I like my mom and dad, and I'm taking the bus."

With that Butters turned and ran to the bus line on the opposite side of the parking lot.

Kenny sighed and collapsed back against the wall of the school building.

That had gone over well.

* * *

**Yay I'm back! Sorry about that ridiculously long wait period. This has been sitting in my computer unedited, mocking me for days now and really my only excuse is my extreme laziness. Not going to let this go unfinished though. My entire goal for this is to, well, first and foremost have fun, but also get better at writing nice, pretty, complete, and easy to follow stories so not finishing would defeat the purpose.**

**A few POVs this chapter. And finally Butters. I'm still not entirely happy with the last couple of scenes and may go back and rewrite them a bit. The Stotches were all surprisingly hard to write.**

**Some people mentioned something about K2, and um, to be honest, I have very few planned pairings for this story. Actually I only have one pairing I know I want in here, and one other that I would like, but considering my excessive word count, may need to cut. So, essentially what I'm saying is, while I have the plot planned to the letter, the romance piece is kind of up in the air.**

**Thank you all for reading, feel free leave a review and tell me what you think, and I'll try to be better about my update time this time around. **

**~Lily**


	8. Chapter 8: They Killed Kenny

"You never think of us." Mr. Stotch slammed his hands on the kitchen table, making it rattle.

Mrs. Stotch stood a little off to the side, face drawn in annoyance, but not moving to interfere as her husband wailed on their son.

Butters, for his part, looked utterly terrified. When he'd stormed in barely twenty minutes ago, despite Kenny's attempts to dissuade him, Butters had very angrily begun a rant about independence, and freedom, and the usual. All that strength and anger was gone with Mr. Stotch glaring down at him.

"You will go with them." Mr. Stotch said, dangerous edge in his voice.

"No, dad, please don't send me away. I don't want to go." Butters was practically begging now, and his big blue eyes turned to his mother, "Mom?"

Mrs. Stotch shook her head. "Listen to your father honey."

Kenny felt, well, really bad, to put it mildly. Butters looked near tears, and the red faced Mr. Stotch was no easy sight either.

"Go to your room, you're grounded mister," He said pointing to the stairwell. Kenny would have laughed at the way Mr. Stotch had said it, if he didn't feel so bad for Butters. It seemed like the world had it out for him. His friends sucked, his parents sucked, and he wasn't even getting a say in this entire thing. If anyone would do well at SAKI, it was him. In the months Kenny had been there he'd learned that much.

Butters opened and closed his mouth a couple times, like he wanted to protest, but a threatening step forward from Mr. Stotch sent him scurrying up the stairs. They heard a door slam, and then, silence.

Mr. Stotch sighed. "Sorry about him boys, but he'll go. I'll make sure of it."

Kenny frowned. Okay, so maybe Butters was being unreasonable, but he didn't like the way his parents were talking. It was threatening. It was contemptuous. Kenny's own parents were definitely not the model to go one, but even through the drugs and the drinking, they never spoke to Kenny like that.

"Actually," Kenny said. "I'd like to have some time to talk to him."

Mr. Stotch looked confused, as if the prospect of speaking rationally with his son was foreign to him. Probably was. "What?"

"Just, give me a day. Tomorrow. I want to try and convince him that this is the right thing to do." Kenny said, hoping the Stotches would agree. Yeah, he didn't want to stick around here, and maybe he really needed to stay on Kim's good side, but he didn't want to betray Butters already fragile trust.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Kyle asked again.

Kenny glared.

"Sorry, sorry, force of habit. But, really, do you think this is a good idea? Maybe it's just none of our business."

"Somebodies beating that kid Ky, he has to get out of here." Kenny said.

Kyle nodded and settled back into the leather seat of the limo. He wasn't trying to be mean about the whole Butters issue, but Kenny was getting really attached to this entire thing, and it was Kyle's job to stay practical. "Pick you up at, say, fourish?"

"Works for me," Kenny said, before hopping out of the car and slamming the door.

Kyle watched Kenny as the limo pulled away.

As soon as Kenny was out of sight he flicked on his phone. Wendy was messaging him. Part of getting to know each other better apparently entailed stealing phone numbers from that Annie girl. Though it wasn't like he wasn't curious. Apparently Wendy and Cartman had been talking to Kim too.

_From: Wendy_

_Sent at 8: 15 AM_

_It's happening today._

_From: Kyle_

_Sent to Wendy at 8:34 AM_

_I pity you._

_From: Wendy_

_Sent to Kyle at 8:36 AM_

_I don't understand why you got the limo, and I got stuck with Eric Cartman._

_From: Kyle_

_Sent to Wendy at 8:37 AM_

_He's not that bad._

_From: Wendy_

_Sent to Kyle at 8:41 AM_

…

Kyle laughed and decided to leave it at that. His phone buzzed in his hand. He checked it. Incoming call from an unknown number. He picked up.

He froze.

"Driver, stop the car." He said.

The driver screeched at him, and pulled over. Kyle jumped out of the car, and walked away. The driver was still yelling at him from the limo, but he ignored it in favor of listening to the person on the other line.

"Mole? What the hell?"

* * *

Wendy glared at her phone, but Kyle never replied. She sighed and slipped the new black berry (courtesy of Kim) in her pocket. If Cartman didn't get here soon they'd be late.

She was standing outside the front gates of SAKI, dressed in a brand new uniform, navy blue pencil skirt perfectly tailored to her size. She wondered if she could keep it. It was far better than the grey pleated skirts the girls normally got.

Five minutes later Cartman arrived. The school didn't carry suits in the boys size, and after an unfortunate incident in which the PE teacher lost use of both his legs, nobody tried to make him get in shape anymore. Cartman's suit was charcoal grey and a slightly darker navy blue. It was close enough in style and cut to the school uniform, but Wendy was going to have to talk to the fashion department about working on something a little more appropriate, especially if he was going to be on student council.

"Hey, ho," Cartman called, in as friendly a voice as he was capable of.

Wendy forced a smile. "Cartman."

He came to a stop beside her. For a long moment neither said anything. Cartman shifted, obviously bored.

"All right." He finally said, "when is this bitch—"

A shiny black car pulled up to curb. Out stepped a tall, beautiful raven haired woman. Her heels clicked on the pavement, and her suit hugged her body tightly. She smiled at them, tucking a stray strand of hair back into her messy bun. She had a pencil tucked behind one ear and clipboard clutched in her hand that only added to the sense of intelligence about her. If anyone else had been there, they would have said that this was the woman Wendy would grow into given a few more years. As it was, Wendy could only glare a little as she caught Cartman stand taller and discreetly straighten his jacket.

"Hello," the woman said, "I'm Janice Rice."

"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am, I'm Wendy Testaburger, and this is Eric Cartman. Shall we begin?"

* * *

Kenny watched Butters carefully the moment he stepped out of the house. There was something off. Kenny had a feeling he may have been wrong on his first guess of where the bruises came from, but he'd hold his tongue for now. Butters didn't want to talk.

They took a bus to Main Street. It was still just the same as Kenny had left it. There was City Wok, Raisins, the Bed 'n Breakfast. And that video game store the kids used to line up at.

It was chilly out, but it was always cold in South Park, and it drove them to hurry as they made their way down the sidewalk. Butters had pulled a white jacket over his sweater, and Kenny regretted not grabbing one of those SAKI hoodies before he left.

"Mind if we stop for coffee?" Kenny said.

He hadn't been a coffee drinker in South Park, but at SAKI Tammy and Kyle both drank the stuff like water, and Kenny had been converted.

Butters nodded mutely, and they stepped off the sidewalk into Harbucks.

Kenny ordered for the two of them, and they grabbed a seat by the far window.

They settled in, and Kenny didn't push Butters to talk. Instead he chattered on aimlessly. About Karen, and school, and Kyle, and Cartman. He talked, and Butters sat there silently. He wasn't even sure if the kid was listening but it didn't matter. He had a vague plan for today, mostly pertaining to just making Butters comfortable.

"I thought you said he wasn't your boyfriend?"

Butters head whipped around to face Dimitri, who had appeared by their table red parka, and held a steaming cup of black coffee.

"What do you want?" Kenny sighed. This was putting a wrench in things.

"Just checking in." Dimitri gave a sickeningly sweet smile, then turned to Butters, "Your parents haven't ground you yet then?"

Kenny watched as something passed between the two. This was obviously a conversation that had started earlier, but Kenny was lost as to the meaning.

"N-no. not yet."

Dimitri nodded, but he kept his eyes on Butters, like he was looking for something. When he finished with his search he turned to look at Kenny again.

"Alex told me who you were. You really are a dumb shit to think someone wouldn't notice. If I were you I'd scram before your parents find out, or whatever."

"There's nothing for them to find out."

Dimitri lost interest. "Whatever. Later gaywads."

They watched until the door slammed behind him.

"Your parents don't know you're here?" Butters asked quietly.

Kenny shrugged. "Long story. Tell you on our way."

Kenny stood, throwing his empty cup in the trash and walking towards the door. Butters jumped up to follow him.

"On our way where?"

"You'll see."

Time to initiate plan super awesome (so not in the script so hopefully this works) bonding time that will make Butters go to SAKI.

* * *

"How did you even get out? Or get a phone, for that matter." Kyle said. He was talking to Mole on the phone while walking down the streets. He wasn't sure where he was, he didn't know this town, but he couldn't be in the limo while talking to Mole. Knowing Freya she had the car rigged.

"Don't even get me started. That Freya woman is dangerous though. Even now I'm uncertain if I escaped, or they let me go."

Mole may have been being a tad melodramatic.

"So SAKI really has jail cells?" But Kyle would humor him.

"Yes. Underground. Definitely beneath the basement level, but I could not tell you more. It was torture. They made me sit though algebra II."

"Hmm. Seems like Freya's kind of place. Figures our ISS is freaking Guantanamo Bay." Kyle said, only half joking.

He paused as he came to an old newspaper dispenser. The thing had been vandalized beyond repair, but a few papers remained, front page splashed with pictures of a giant question mark. Kyle paused, and tilted his head as he read the headline from a few weeks ago. It wouldn't have bothered him normally, but he recognized the symbol. Dorm D was still trying to scrub it off their bedroom walls.

_WHERE IS MYSTERION?_

"Hey, Mole, do me a favor."

"Yes?"

"I need you to run a check on a guy named Mysterion."

* * *

Janice was a bitch. She hadn't stopped staring at Stan since they'd arrived at the field, to find the football team very purposefully in mid practice.

"They don't look like high schoolers." She said.

"I assure you they are." Wendy said. Keeping her voice steady was beginning to become a problem.

"I used to play on the team, you know," Cartman said, edging a little closer to the black clad Janice.

Janice cast him a withering look over he glasses. "Really?"

Cartman turned red, "Oh, well, it was a couple of years ago."

"I would imagine,"Janice turned away from Cartman back to the field. The players jogged to the nearby benches to grab water after a particularly tough drill. Stan stopped close by, grabbing a water bottle. Wendy tried to catch his eye, but he seemed to see straight through her. Instead he focused on Janice, who flashed him a lipstick smile and walked up to him, hips swaying.

"Hi there," Janice said, "I'm doing an article for your school. You look like the teams star quarter back, am I right? Stanley Marsh?"

Stan's eyes went wide and he nodded hastily.

"Well I would just love to take you inside, for a _private_ chat."

Stan stood speechless, and Wendy couldn't tell if it was surprise or nerves but she didn't like it.

A whistle sounded.

"Well looks like I'll be seeing you later then," Janice said.

Stan bolted back onto the field, Janice giggling in his wake.

Janice turned to Wendy. She nodded back to where Stan had run with the rest of the team. "Keep an eye on that one. He'll be a looker."

Wendy was fuming. Who the hell did this woman think she was?

Before she could say something she'd regret, Cartman cut in. "Ready to see the indoor facilities?"

"Quite, but please if you don't mind, could we stop at the ladies room?"

* * *

"Stop being a bitch Wendy."

"Me? What about her? How is anything she's doing appropriate?"

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Oh you're just pissed she was flirting with your boy toy. Let it go. She'll be gone tomorrow."

Wendy scowled, and crossed her arms. They were standing in the hall waiting for Janice to be finished in the ladies room. Cartman was leaning against the wall. Janice's lack of interest in him had not improved his mood.

"I just, it's not fair."

"I hear ya. If she went after Stan you wouldn't stand a chance, what with your scrawny, mannish figure."

Wendy glared, and Cartman just cackled.

"Though you have a point," Cartman added after he'd calmed down, "She is kind of a bitch."

"Why? Because she wasn't impressed by your amazing football body?"

Cartman glared and Wendy grinned.

"Honestly, what's taking her anyways? I'm going to go check." Wendy said.

"Janice is a big girl Wendy, I'm pretty sure she's fine."

Wendy rolled her eyes and ignored him.

Around the corner the bathrooms double doors were ajar. Wendy wondered if maybe Cartman was right and she should have stayed back, when she opened the bathroom doors. No one was inside.

Hesitantly, Wendy stepped away from the restroom, and looked around at the other classrooms nearby. On a hunch she stepped up to the computer lab.

Janice's phone was hooked up to the hard drive, and a long download stream was just finishing up on the computer screen.

"What are you doing?"

Janice jumped, spun around, and hid the phone behind her back. She smiled through her nerves. "Oh, Wendy, I didn't hear you coming. You know I can use the restroom on my own."

"_What_ are you doing?" Wendy said again, eyes narrowing.

"Well, you see I was just—"

Wendy stepped forward, reaching and snatching the phone out of Janice's hands before the woman could stop her. She dropped it on the floor, and stepped on it, heel cracking the cheap plastic.

A quick glance at the screen confirmed an error in the download.

Janice sighed. "Well, I supposed there's no hiding it now, is there."

She straightened her jacket.

"Well?" Wendy asked.

"No, I'm not a real reporter. But I do have questions. Though honestly can you blame me? Have you seen this place? No one is this school pays tuition? Where's the money coming from? If you ask me this entire thing is a scam."

"How dare you—"

"Think, Wendy. You're a smart girl. If only a handful of students pay tuition, and that tuition is minimal at best, where does this school get the money to keep everyone on room and board? For the new equipment every year? Did you know everyone here is equipped with a free cell phone and laptop? You don't get that kind of money off of donations."

"I think it's time for you to leave." Wendy said. She could barely speak. How dare this woman accuse her school, her _home_, of this. Well, at least she now had a valid reason to hate the woman.

* * *

Kenny whooped as he sped past Butters, nearly knocking the smaller boy over. Butters shrieked, and wind milled his arms to keep balance.

"That's not funny!"

"It's hysterical," Kenny said, skating circles around Butters with a laugh.

He hadn't been sure if Stark's Pond was the best place to go, after all it was a very public place and Dimitri could drop in any minute, but with the way Butters had finally started to loosen up Kenny decided to risk it. Besides, trying to teach Butters to stand on his own two feet kept him from asking about Kenny's family.

Of course, Butters didn't need too much help. He picked himself up and whipped past Kenny the same Kenny had done to him.

"Hey! Slow down."

Butters laughed, and just to be a little showoff, did a twirl on the ice.

"Damn townies," Kenny muttered and skated forward to keep pace.

Starks pond was frozen nearly year round, except for a brief slightly warmer month in summer. It was surrounded by trees, and had been the favorite hangout of kids everywhere since South Park was built. Which was why every kid in South Park knew how to skate.

At least Butters was cheering up.

"Hey, Kenny?"

"Hm?" Kenny wasn't really paying attention. He was too busy trying to avoid fallen stick and leaves that had failed to freeze over. He and Stark's Pond had an iffy history, beginning when he was six, and fell through the ice and froze to death.

"Dimitri told me you were related to Kevin McCormick."

Kenny's eyes glazed over as he continued to glide across the ice on the skates he'd managed to convince Kyle to buy.

"Yes. That's true." He said carefully.

Butters seemed interested now, which really wasn't a good signe.

"Really? So you're from South Park? Did you go to school here?"

"Yeah. For a long time. I was here last year."

"Really? I don't remember you."

Kenny skidded to a stop and turned around, tripping up Butters. Kenny pulled his school jacket up over his head like a makeshift hood.

"How about now?"

Butters stared on without understanding.

"Imagine it's orange." Kenny added.

Butters' eyes lit up.

"I remember you, you sat in the back of Ms. C's class. Back in sixth grade."

This revelation seemed too much for the kid. He stumbled over words. Kenny smiled, amused, trying to decipher what Butters was asking.

"Why did you leave?" Butters finally managed to splutter out.

Kenny's mind shot back to what he'd found out about last year. About how they had known about his curse the entire time, and never said a word, and about the fights, and fallout, and Mysterion.

"Sometimes, you need to move on," He spoke slowly, picking his words carefully, "To better things."

"You mean the money?"

"Yes. And no," Kenny sighed, frustrated, "What I mean is, it wasn't good for me to stay here with the way things were. I don't really like talking about it."

Butters nodded, but remained quiet. Kenny could see what he was thinking, that Kenny was ashamed of his family, and had run. The two skated around for a little longer, but it was obvious the heart had gone from it. Eventually Butters skated over to the bank and collapsed into the snow. Kenny followed.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Butters asked, as they laced up their shoes.

"Honestly? You remind me of my sister. And I want you to go to SAKI."

"Of course," Butters said lowly.

Kenny grinned at him. "You asked. And least I'm honest."

They started had the long trek up the hills and away from Stark's Pond when Butters spoke up again.

"What if I told you it wasn't Dimitri who hurts me? And that Dimitri's actually really nice and helping me out but I'm just…unhelpable."

Butter's watched Kenny apprehensively.

"I'd say, if it's not you, who is it?" Kenny had a feeling he already knew.

"What if I said it was my parents?"

Kenny swore.

"It's not all the time. And mostly I just get grounded, but the other day I really made them mad, and it's just, they're not as bad as grandma, and really I just, I don't want to leave."

"If that's what's going on, you have to get out of that house."

"And prove, what, that I'm afraid? That I'll do what they say?"

"Butters, listen to me, you have to go. You just have to. Once you get to the school, it doesn't matter what happened here. You can put this all behind you."

Butters sighed "I knew you wouldn't get it," and trudging off through the snow. Kenny pulled on his other boot and hurried after him.

* * *

Wendy and Cartman watched as security walked Janice out. They made to grab her and force her into the back of the car parked neatly outside the gate, but she brushed them off.

"I think I can handle it boys," she said.

She slid into the backseat, and one of the security officers took the wheel. Before the door closed she sent Wendy a withering look. Then the car peeled away from the curb in a cloud of dust and skid marks.

"Told you so." Wendy said, in a sing song voice that may have been a little too cheerful.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" Cartman said, but he was smiling too, "Think we'll get extra credit for this?"

"I would bet on it. Wanna grab lunch?"

"God yes, I'm starving."

They turned, and headed back to the cafeteria, chatting quietly, barely giving Janice a second thought.

* * *

Janice watched the SAKI disappear, and then waited a good twenty minutes. She checked her watch occasionally, not for specific reason, but because she wanted to be good and far away from that dratted place.

When she was sure she wouldn't be heard, she reached into her purse, and pulled out a hand gun.

The man at the wheel was dead before he realized what was happening. From there it was short work to pull over the car and pull out her phone.

"Hello, sir?" she said.

"Do you have an update?"

"You don't have to worry. They have no idea. We can go ahead and begin."

* * *

Kyle was back in the hotel room when it happened. He didn't know where Kenny was, still presumably out skating with Butters. Apparently it was a popular pastime in South Park. He didn't need to pick him up till four anyways.

He'd been lounging in the living room, flipping through the limited number of channels. He'd left his school jacket on the back of the sofa and kicked off his shoes, laid back, and watched Family Guy reruns. Which wasn't actually as bad as Cartman claimed.

He didn't even hear it when the man crept up behind him and put the gun to the back of his head.

"Don't scream, or I shoot. Don't make a run for it, or I shoot. Do as I say, or I shoot. Am I understood?"

Kyle felt his heart stop. He nodded stiffly.

"Do you understand?" the man repeated.

"Yes." Kyle choked out. His throat felt dry, and everything seemed wrong. In that instant, all the training, all the years with Garret thinking he was tough flew out the window. His blood pounded in his ears, and as he was manhandled off the couch and into a kitchen chair, all the time never seeing the face of his captor. He was terrified.

The man looped a length of rope around his waist and arms and tied him to the chair. He pulled back on the rope until Kyle couldn't breathe and tied it behind his back, knot well out of reach of his hands.

When he was finished, he came around to face Kyle.

Kyle found himself staring at a dark eyed man, with a scraggly beard and hair. He gave Kyle a crooked grin.

"Mr. Broflovski," his voice was slimy, and gave Kyle shivers, "How pleasant."

"Who are you?"

"That is of no concern to you. In fact, you'd do well to forget I was here. We have no interest in you. Unfortunately boss don't want you dead yet. Which means…" the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of cloth. He grabbed Kyle by the face and nearly choked him as he put on the gag. "…you and I are going to be seeing plenty of each other in the near future."

Kyle's panic was beginning to overwhelm him, and he was certain that there had been something in that cloth because he was beginning to feel groggy and crap, was Kenny ok?

* * *

Kenny walked along the sidewalk back to Butters' house feeling slightly disappointed. He doubted that Butters would be going to SAKI. His tuition was about to go unpaid.

He watched Butters as they walked trying to find something, anything, that would convince him. In the end there was nothing.

So he resigned himself to his fate, and shuffled along behind Butters through the picture perfect neighborhood. He didn't know where the limo was. It was supposed to pick them an hour ago. He was totally going to rag on Kyle for it though because his shoes were giving him blisters.

"Don't you have a limo or something?" Dimitri's familiar voice called.

Kenny groaned and turned around. Sure enough, Dimitri, in his red parka, this time with a black lab on a leash walked down the sidewalk.

"Dimitri." Kenny grit out.

"McCormick," Dimitri grinned.

"Hey Dimitri," Butters said, twirling his thumbs.

Dimitri looked genuinely surprised to see Butters there, and for a moment his mask of crude humor and malice dropped, "Your parents will be pissed you were out this late, especially after last week…"

As he trailed off he looked towards Kenny.

"It's fine," Butters said.

"I see," he said.

Dimitri's lab let out a low growl.

"Ah, shut up, dumbass," Dimitri said, yanking on the chain. He turned to Kenny, "So you a McCormick then, aren't you?"

Kenny sighed. Looked like they were back to this. "Yes. Does it matter?"

"Nah, it's just, you know, you disappear a couple months back, then you show up again looking…" The dog barked. Dimitri ignored it, "rich..."

Kenny shrugged, "I go to a good school."

"And that's where Butters would go?" To Kenny's surprise Dimitri seemed genuinely interested, and he thought maybe he was getting a better picture of what Butters' life was like. Dimitri tormented him at school, but also gave Butters a person to go to, or at least talk to sometimes. And maybe Dimitri did actually care.

"Dimitri, don't start," Butters said.

Suddenly Dimitri's dog went wild, pulling on the leash and barking like crazy. Dimitri, struggled to hold the leash.

"What the hell?" he cried, as he was dragged down the sidewalk.

Kenny finally looked up to try and see whatever it was the dog was going crazy about.

He saw a scraggly man with a gun. A gunshot later Kenny was dead.

* * *

**So um, yeah. I've been gone a really long time. Sorry bout that. I'm going to Italy shortly, and my teachers are about to slam us with homework for the end of course exams, so updates are bound to be erratic. **

**Still, so sorry for the lateness of this.**

**I'm not actually too happy with this chapter and it all feels very extraneous. I'm already working on the next chapter though, and it seems to be going much better. Tell me what you think.****  
**

**~Lily**


	9. Chapter 9: Voicemail

Kenny walked down the street in a bit of a daze.

He was pretty sure he'd died again.

He looked down at the pristine state of his uniform and frowned.

Scratch that, he'd definitely died again, which sucked ass because he hadn't died since getting to SAKI, a personal record.

And his nonchalance didn't come from being unfazed. Dying sucked. It always sucked. First, there was the surprise of it, because up until the moment you died, you didn't really think you were going to stop living. After the surprise there was the pain. Kenny had been shot, stabbed, run over, set on fire, strangled, ripped open, and more. Most people didn't see themselves flatline in a hospital. Kenny had seen it happen five times, not counting the days of his childhood, which were a blur of pain and confusion.

So no, Kenny's calm reaction wasn't that it didn't suck to die, but more that, despite how horrible it was, he had become so accustomed to the feeling of fading from life that his reaction didn't show the way it used to.

Still, his mind felt foggier than usual. Not the events leading up to his death. No he remembered that perfectly. That dude with the gun had either had insane aim, or gotten really lucky, cause the bullet had lodged itself into his brain.

After that the usual ordeal had taken place. He'd floated around, dead for a while, before going to hell. It happened a lot actually. As it turned out, very few people were cut out for heavenliness. But hell wasn't all that bad. At least he had company.

Then he'd woken up and that's where he began to lose focus. He could've sworn he had been in his own childhood bed, but somehow, between waking up and now, he'd managed to get to Main Street without any recollection of how and it was really beginning to bother him.

He probably would have wandered forever if Kyle hadn't pulled up in the limo.

"Kenny?" Kyle asked. He rolled down his window and stared at Kenny over a pair of wire frame sunglasses with utter disbelief.

Kenny paused in his trek.

"Kyle?" he said slowly.

Kyle threw open the limo door. "Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere."

Kenny allowed himself to be guided into the car, still dazed, and not really registering what was going on.

"Kenny?" Kyle asked, as he finally managed to get his friend in the car and close the door.

Kenny looked up. "Oh. Hey Ky."

Kyle sighed. "Great. You're useless."

"Is he okay?"

Kyle turned to Butters, who was staring saucer eyed at the two, and fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Kyle sighed. "Let's just get him back to SAKI."

Butters nodded and sat back.

Kenny, for his part, stared, amazed to see Butters there. Last he remembered Butters had been pretty pissed at him.

"Don't we need to bring you home?" Kenny asked.

"Um. I thought I was going to SAKI?" Butters said uncertainly.

"Yes. Yes you are," Kyle said, a little too fast, shooting Kenny a look.

"Oh," Kenny said.

That was weird.

"Maybe you should get some rest," Kyle said, but it sounded less like a suggestion, more like a command.

Kenny couldn't really argue at that point though. He was really tired. And really really confused. So he lay down and took a nap.

* * *

Kenny woke up in his dorm room, dressed in standard issue SAKI blue PJs. The first thought to come into his mind was about who had dressed him, quickly followed by wondering how he'd got there, and finally…

He groaned.

Now he remembered. Kyle, Butters, and, oh right, he'd died again. Great. He wondered if he needed to report that to Mr. Kim. He'd done what he was told after all, even if he had no idea how.

He got up slowly. There was a knock on his door.

"What?"

Kyle poked his head in.

"You're awake? About time. Get up. It's dorm bonding time."

"What?" Kenny asked, still half asleep and not quite ready to abandon the safety of his bed.

Kyle sighed, "Butters is in our dorm dumbass. He's getting initiated. Today."

"He's in our dorm? Wait, is it Saturday?"

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "Did you hit your head or something?"

Kenny raised a hand to the upper left side of his forehead, fingers brushing against the spot where he could still feel the sharp, piercing, bullet, burying itself into his skull.

"Something like that," he said.

"Well, hurry up and get dressed."

With that Kyle vanished.

Kenny collapsed back into his bed and closed his eyes for another five minutes. He could already tell this was going to be a long day.

* * *

Kenny pulled on a grey SAKI hoodie and sweatpants. Dorm bonding meant weekend, and weekend meant there was no way in hell he was wearing the uniform. He stopped by the showers quickly, and then headed to the common room.

He walked down the hall, came to the entrance of the common room, and froze.

"No way," he said, grinning as he took in the new look Freya had given their dorm.

The furniture had vanished, and the floor was solid ice. The walls had been painted in white, and a snow machine was set in the corner, lending a wintery atmosphere to the place.

Annie skated by with the grace of a figure skater. Kenny stared after her slim figure as she passed, admiring the way her leggings stuck like a second skin.

"Hey Ken." Tammy skated up. She was wearing tight jeans and a hoodie, and she grinned at him. "Want me to grab you some skates from the kitchen?"

"Yeah, thanks."

She skated off.

He could see Powder on the other side of the room with Karen. Karen was, of course, a natural skater, and helping poor Powder, who clung to the walls to keep upright. Kyle and Ike skated around while having heated debate, and passed by three times before Kyle realized he was there.

"Kenny?" Kyle final pulled away from Ike.

"Hey."

"Feeling better? Do you need skates?"

"Nah, Tammy's grabbing some."

"Kyle," Ike said, skating ahead, "c'mon,"

Kyle waved, then sped after his brother who was even better than Karen, speeding around the room, and around Kyle, much to the other's annoyance.

For a moment Kenny just sat back and enjoyed the scene. It was peaceful. His dorm, his second family, enjoying themselves, laughing together, in his school. After dying so violently it felt surreal. It always felt like this the first few hours back. No matter how many times he died, he still felt a little surprised and a little hurt that nobody remembered, nobody mourned.

He was processing this all when he saw something that made his stomach drop. Butters was skating across the ice talking to Cartman.

Tammy glided up and handed him a pair of skates.

"Are we just letting Cartman torment the new kid?" he asked.

Tammy looked over to where Cartman was laughing his ass off while Butters looked mildly embarrassed.

"Oh, them? They're roommates."

Kenny groaned. Perfect. What was it with Butters that he just gravitated towards these types of asshats?

Kenny pulled on the skates and got out onto the ice. He skated a few circles around the room, and as he came up on where Butters and Cartman were talking, he grabbed the smaller boy by the arm and dragged him off.

"Hey!" Butters shouted, and if Kenny hadn't been holding him up, he would have lost his balance and crashed to the floor.

"What are you doing?" Butters asked, finally regaining his balance.

"Just go with it," Kenny said, sighing a little. Cartman was swearing at them but he mostly ignored it. When it looked like Butters wouldn't take off, he let him go.

"Sorry about Cartman," Kenny said.

"What? Why?"

"No one deserves to be harassed their first day,"  
"He wasn't harassing me Kenny," Butters said.

Kenny did a double take. "Huh?"

"Cartman's my dorm mate. We're friends." And the way Butters said that was exactly the same way he'd told Kenny that him and Dimitri were friends

Kenny could feel his eyebrow twitching as he watched the smiley, sunshiney Butters chatter on about how Cartman was his best friend and how nice he was being and how Kenny had been right SAKI was awesome.

Seriously, God must've hated Kenny, and Butters must've been the biggest moron on the planet.

"Butters, Cartman's lying," he said flatly.

Butters just his head. "You're just jealous."

Kenny had a feeling those words had been spoon fed to him by Cartman himself. Which was fan-fucking-tastic. Just what he needed really.

"I'm not even going to argue with you anymore," Kenny said. At least if it was Cartman being an asshole he could keep an eye on it. That was better than in South Park. "But I need you to fill me in. How long have I been out?"

"A couple days. You were sick when we got back and Kyle said Freya said to leave you be. And Stan said you weren't looking too good," Butters said, gesturing to the kitchen doorway where Stan was watching the going ons quietly.

"But before that?"

"What do you mean?" Butters said.

"Back in South Park."

Kenny watched as Butters eyes went hazy, and when Butters spoke next it sounded less like Butters, more like a recitation out of a textbook, "You and I talked. You convinced me to go to SAKI, and on our return to my house to pack my things we ran into Dimitri. His dog got loose and a man helped us catch it. I went back to my house and got my things. Kyle picked me up. And we found you walking down the street. You'd run off. Why'd you run off Kenny?"

That was what Kenny had been looking for. Part of his curse entailed rewriting his friends' memories until they barely remembered something had gone wrong. The only problem was that Kenny never got the memo. He always had to ask someone or guess. The vagueness of Butters' story this time around was a bit disturbing, but at least everything had ended with Butters at SAKI.

"I had something to do," Kenny said, brushing off Butters' question.

Butters didn't seem too interested in continuing the line of questioning, and Kenny let him skate off to Cartman against his better judgment. He had way more to worry about than Eric Cartman being a dick.

Kenny had been murdered several times. Murderers didn't usually just shoot one person in front of a crowd of witnesses, on a neighborhood street.

Unless they knew it wouldn't matter how many people saw. Unless they knew they'd be forgotten.

He needed to talk to Mr. Kim.

* * *

Kyle wasn't sure this entire thing was even a good idea anymore, but Wendy wasn't backing out, and he certainly couldn't let Cartman win.

Monday had brought with it an announcement from Mr. Kim that speeches were taking place on Tuesday. In the rush of the whole South Park ordeal Kyle had completely forgotten. Now he stared down at his half-finished speech from last week.

"What's that?" Kenny asked, completely forgetting a little thing called personal space, and leaning over Kyle to look down at the speech.

Kyle tried to cover it up.

"Probably his speech," Cartman said from down the table.

"Oh, right, you're doing the election thingy," Kenny said, ignoring Kyle's discomfort and reading through the speech, "That's not too bad."

"Thanks Kenny. So glad I have your approval seeing as how you're the model of education with your achievements at this school," Kyle winced internally. That had been mean, even for him.

Kenny took it in stride.

"Not all of us can be robots without a social life."

Kyle sighed. Sad but true. He looked down at the speech. Maybe if he opened with something a little less formal…

"Hey, Kyle?"

"Kenny, I'm trying to work."

"This'll be really quick."

"Fine."

"That day before we left South Park, what did you do?"

"What does that—"

"Just answer."

"Fine. I went back to the hotel. I ate some popcorn. Watched TV. Then some guy…" Well that was weird. No, actually, that was disturbing. Kyle tried to think back. He'd thought some guy had come to the door looking for…was it his girlfriend? No, it was Kenny. But wait, that wasn't right either. The harder Kyle forced himself to remember, the faster the details were slipping away. He knew something had happened, something important.

Kyle's head snapped up. Kenny! Something was wrong. Someone was going after—

His thoughts stopped short as he looked towards his friend. Kenny was watching him, fascinated.

What had he been thinking about again?

"I can't remember very well," Kyle said, uneasy at the sudden lack of memory. What had he been about to say?

"I'm sure it's nothing," Kenny shrugged it off and returned to his food.

"Yeah, sure."

Inside Kyle panicked. He had a near perfect memory. He was responsible. He was diligent. He was smart. When Kyle needed help he turned to his thoughts, his knowledge. His mind had never failed him like that before.

But somehow he'd forgotten something important, something vital.

And that disturbed him more than he could let the others know.

He stared down at the half finished speech, mind somewhere else, for the rest of lunch.

* * *

Kyle's reaction was strange. Downright bizarre actually. Kenny had been through the death routine hundreds of times now, and no one had ever reacted like that. Kyle had frozen up like he'd been struck by lightning, and Kenny could see the panic in his face before he'd been snapped out of it.

Now Kyle just stared down at his speech like he was lost, and he would find the way out in his own half written essay.

Kenny decided to let it rest. He didn't like the idea that he could pull that kind of reaction out of Kyle with a couple questions. It was almost like Kyle knew Kenny had died, but he didn't _remember._

The bell rang, and students jumped out of their chairs.

"Kyle?" Kenny asked.

The redhead looked up.

"Go ahead. I think I'm not feeling to well. May go back to the dorm."

Biting back guilt Kenny nodded and fell into line with the other students to return the dishes before struggling through the chaos out of the Mess Hall.

"Kenneth McCormick!" Freya's voice shouted over the intercom.

Kenny stopped dead, making the kid behind him crash into him.

"Mr. Kim will see you now."

Kenny sprinted out of the hall.

* * *

Kenny stood outside Mr. Kim's door, arms crossed, and eyes flicking to the clock every few minutes. Mr. Kim was late.

At long last the intercom clicked on.

"Mr. Kim is ready for you," Freya said.

"About time. I made this appointment Saturday."

"Mr. Kim is a very busy man and you'd do best to show a little more respect to the only person who can get you in to see him." The intercom clicked off and after a delay, the door to the office slid open.

Mr. Kim's office wasn't as big as Kenny thought it would be. It was instead warm, welcoming, with a grand desk, on which was a lone office phone and a tea set. Mr. Kim sat behind it, smiling.

"Ah, Mr. McCormick. This is a pleasant surprise, take a seat." Mr. Kim gestured to a chair situated before his desk.

Kenny took the seat and began to feel nervous. When he'd made the appointment he'd thought he'd come in here guns blazing and make Mr. Kim explain why the hell Kenny had gotten shot. But face to face Mr. Kim seemed to diffuse any argument Kenny had. Maybe it had been just a crazy lone gunman. It happened. Maybe Mr. Kim hadn't even realize Kenny had died.

"Tea?" Mr. Kim offered, gesturing to one of four tea cups set up on the side of his desk.

Kenny shook his head.

"Suit yourself." Mr. Kim grabbed a cup and took a long sip, obviously quite content to take his time.

"So, Mr. McCormick, what brings you back to my office so soon?"

"I wanted to talk about when you sent me and Kyle to South Park."

"Oh? What about it?"

Here Kenny paused. What did he want to know?

"I…you know I died again, right?"

Mr. Kim took another sip of his tea.

"Well is that so? I don't seem to recall…"

"Sir, please, I'm worried that—"

"That what?" Mr. Kim asked, brow quirked.

Kenny took a deep breath. "That someone else knows. I mean, this guy headed straight towards me. In broad daylight."

"I see."

Mr. Kim continued to drink his tea, and Kenny felt his nervousness begin to turn to agitation.

"I see? Is that it? What if this guy comes after me again? And you know, you never explained that break in at our dorm too. This isn't a joke. I'm serious."

"So am I," Mr. Kim said.

Kenny snapped his mouth shut. Mr. Kim's voice had changed. There was a hard edge in it that hadn't been there before.

"Mr. McCormick, understand, even if there was a danger present in South Park, it doesn't matter. Nobody was injured during the excursion."

"I _died_."

"And I said _nobody was hurt._"

"This is stupid. If somebody really is after me—"

"It wouldn't matter. Because no one was hurt."

"I—,"

"I don't believe you understand, Mr. McCormick," Mr. Kim said, effectively shutting Kenny up. He reached towards the phone on his desk and pressed a button.

A mechanical voice came on. "One new message Wednesday 6:15 PM: Mr. Kim? Freya?" it was Kyle's voice, high pitched and panicky. As he spoke the words blurred together, and the panic made some things indecipherable. "Somebody I think…Oh my God, Kenny is dead. I don't even know how this happened. I was attacked at the hotel and, Mr. Kim, he killed Kenny! Mr. Kim, Freya, please pick up. Please. God…"

Kim pressed stop. The office fell eerily silent. Kenny sat frozen. Kyle's voice echoed in his head. In all the times he'd died, he'd never once seen, or heard, someone act like it. He'd always thought that after he died things instantly reset themselves, that no one ever grieved.

Kyle's panicked voice proved otherwise. It proved people remembered. They cared.

At least for a while.

"_Nobody_ got hurt," Mr. Kim said again. "Because _if_ someone got hurt, then that would mean someone knows. If someone got hurt, that would mean your friends saw you die. If someone got hurt, that would mean everyone is in grave danger. You I can protect. I cannot extend the same protections to the others more than I already have. And do you really want to be the one responsible for making them relive that moment?"

Kenny gaped. His mind blanked, he had no response, no way of dealing with this. He'd gone to Mr. Kim expecting a lot of things, but he hadn't been prepared for this.

"Fortunately your friends will never have to remember, because _no one got hurt_, isn't that right?"

Kenny nodded numbly.

"Good. Then I think we know what this meeting is really about."

"We do?" Kenny said, still not entirely recovered from his shock.

Mr. Kim smiled, a kind warm smile as if he hadn't just revealed something horrific.

"Of course. You want to know when you're moving to Program II, don't you?"

"I…" Kenny stuttered. What the hell?

"Well you can relax, Mr. McCormick, because you are, as of right now, officially in Program II."

Kenny really didn't process anything that happened with Mr. Kim until the man was already ushering him out of the office with a "you're dismissed".

Kenny was left to stare blankly at the closed door, a slip of paper in his hand, to be signed by his patron to confirm the move to Program II.

* * *

Kyle lay on his bed trying to convince himself that all he needed was some sleep. If he took a nap, he'd wake up tomorrow feeling fine.

It wasn't working. And no matter what he told himself he couldn't close his eyes.

He was forgetting something. He'd forgotten something.

His phone rang from where it sat on his desk. He sat up, confused. No one should be calling him. Why was someone calling him?

He got up, and went over to his desk, checking the caller ID.

Unknown.

He picked up hesitantly.

"Hello?"

"Kyle, remember that Mysterion guy? Turns out there was this huge accident last year in that town you're in… Kyle?"

Kyle sat, dumbfounded, as Mole continued to call his name, and suddenly, a rush of memories began to resurface. Talking to Mole, the newspaper, something about Freya.

"Hey, Mole, can you send me this information, I need to check something right now."

"Are you alright? Kyle? Seriously, what the fuck?"

"Not now, okay?"

Mole grumbled something in French and hung up.

Kyle flipped through his phone to check his recent calls. Underneath his conversation with Mole was an outgoing call to SAKI. A call he didn't remember making.

Kyle sat there and tried to figure out if he was going insane or not. A ding let him know Mole had sent the email.

He hesitated. He wasn't sure he'd like what he would find.

But the feeling of not knowing was worse. He clicked the link.

* * *

**Yay for new chapter!**

**And thank you for the reviews, the feedback was awesome. As you can probably tell by my erratic activity, I'm very busy, but will post when I can. This was a pretty choppy chapter to write, but hopefully it came out all right. I think some Craig POV is actually coming up soon so that will be fun.**

**Anywhoo, reviews welcome, etc.**

**~Lily**


	10. Chapter 10: Love and War

Stan had never even come close to drowning before, but if someone ever asked him to make a comparison, that would be the first thing to come to mind. Like you were being pressed in all sides, wanting, burning with the need to breathe but knowing if you did you would only take in water.

The day he'd first talked to Kyle, _really _talked to Kyle, told him everything, and spilled out all the things he thought he'd never tell a soul, he had been very close to taking that breath.

The day Wendy had approached him after class to ask him if the football team could practice when the reporter came, had made him feel like he could pull his head above water.

Very few people had ever been able to make him feel like that, which was part of Wendy's enchantment. She was so powerful, so utterly determined to do what she wanted, that it just sort of spread, like a wonderful disease. If Wendy was in charge, then everything would be okay. Kyle could be like that sometimes too. And Mr. Kim just seemed to radiate a confident calm that affected everyone around him.

But for the most part it was Wendy who made it easier to breathe, and he wasn't entirely sure why, but he wanted to find out, which was why he was hanging out with his three least favorite people in the world. Maybe Craig, Token, and Clyde pissed him off, but if Wendy liked them there had to be something he was missing.

Stan checked his watch again and frowned. Girls took way too long to get ready.

Clyde seemed to be of the same opinion. "Would you hurry it up?"

"Oh stop complaining," Bebe called through the bathroom door, "It's hard work to look as hot as I do."

Clyde rolled his eyes and grumbled. Token tried not to laugh.

Stan was standing in a hallway in Dorm C, with Clyde, Craig, Token, and his girlfriend, Nicole. Normally he wouldn't be caught with them, but Bebe had invited him along, because "Wendy would love it if you saw the show".

Stan wasn't sure if that was true, but he hoped so.

"So, who are you voting for?" Clyde asked.

Stan rolled his eyes. Actually, out of all of Dorm F, he liked Clyde the best. He wasn't too bright but he was generally nice. Least he wasn't Craig. Stan looked over at said boy. Craig was taller than anyone else in their grade, and he loomed over them all with his expressionless face and the brooding slope of his shoulders. God, the guy made Stan angry. He wasn't even sure why. Something about the way Craig seemed to do everything better and faster than him, without ever even cracking a smile set Stan's teeth on edge.

"C'mon," Clyde said, "Tell me?"

"I really don't know. I mean, Kyle's in my dorm so…"

"But you wanna tap Wendy— ," Bebe's purse sailed through the air, nailing Clyde in the face, "Ow!"

"Honestly, you are disgusting," Bebe sniffed.

"And who are _you_ voting for then Bebe?" Craig said. It was the first thing he'd said since Stan had got there.

Bebe froze, and for a moment, then smiled. "None of your business asshole."

Suddenly it all made sense. Of course Bebe was dragging everyone to the speeches. She was going to watch Kyle, and all in the convenient guise of supporting a friend. Girls were stupid. It wasn't fair to Clyde either, who was dumb, but not that dumb.

But Clyde just smiled, pretending he didn't know, and wrapped an arm around Bebe's waist.

"Well, let's get going," Clyde said.

Why did people have to pretend so much? Stan was sick of it. Sick of people pretending to like, and know each other, when what they really wanted to do was beat the living crap out of each other. Why couldn't life be more like movies, where, if you didn't like someone, you could say and be cool instead of hated? Even he had fallen prey to it, sitting here, pretending to be a part of the group, when everyone knew he was just some unwanted—

"Move, dumbass," Craig said, snapping Stan out of his down spiral. And while he'd never say it, he was grateful. He needed to think positive. He _would_ think positive.

* * *

Kyle stood back stage, shifting from foot to foot nervously. He should have prepared more. He didn't have a clue what he would do. Especially since he was going last. He'd have to follow up Wendy and Cartman.

He risked a glance towards the two. They were peeking through the curtain, arguing in whispers as Mr. Kim finished up the introductions.

"Hey," someone said quietly.

Kyle jumped, and spun around. Kenny was standing behind him, dressed in his nicest uniform, a crisp, navy blue suit that fit him well. Kyle thought it was the nicest he'd ever seen the boy dress, and felt a bit honored.

Kenny had wasted the effort though. Kyle wasn't going to make it, he—

"Your tie's crooked," Kenny said, reaching out and adjusting Kyle's tie himself. Kenny nodded, surveying his work, and smiled. "You'll be fine. Just go with our plan,"

And Kyle had never been more grateful to have a friend. Now if only he could ignore the nagging voice that told him Kenny was hiding something from him.

"Thanks," Kyle said, but it came out raspy. His throat felt dry.

Kenny gave him a pat on the back, and backed away quickly with one last encouraging smile as Mr. Kim ended his speech and stepped backstage.

Mr. Kim surveyed the three candidates with a smile.

"Good luck to you all. Mr. Cartman, you're up."

Mr. Kim walked away, and Cartman adjusted his new suit. As he walked by he brushed against Kyle.

"You're going down Jew rat," Cartman muttered, before stepping through the curtain onto the stage.

* * *

"This is going to suck," Clyde said, just as Eric Cartman walked across the stage to the podium Mr. Kim had just left.

Cartman was wearing a suit, which was rare in and of its self. Stan hadn't known the school made suits that big. From here Stan could make out Cartman's wide toothed psychopath grin.

At the podium, Cartman adjusted the microphone, cleared his throat, and beamed at the audience.

"Good morning," he said, and Stan winced. Cartman faking being nice was more painful than him being himself. "Today I'd like to talk to you about corruption."

"What?" Clyde said, from his seat next to Stan. Bebe elbowed him.

Stan sat with Clyde and Bebe on one side, Craig, Token, and Nicole on the other. They were sitting on the left side of the auditorium, four rows back. Cartman was lit up by a lone, powerful spotlight. The rest of the theater was shadowed, but not pitch black

"You see, for the past four years, our student body has been led by corrupt, corporate liars, working for their own benefit, and ignoring the needs of the students.

"Or has it? See, I'm not afraid to ask questions, and when you elect me, that's exactly what I'll do. I won't let them get away with cheating us out of our rights. Did you hear about our cafeteria food? The same menu again this week? And cold lunches? I mean, don't we deserve better? You have to ask questions people."

"Is he always like this?" Clyde whispered.

Stan nodded.

Cartman went on in a similar manner for another ten minutes, talking about how "the school board is corrupt!" and "we are being oppressed" until he got to:

"And you think Wendy Testaburger will change that? Please, she's working for them!"

There was a general uproar from the student body. Stan could make out the shadowy forms of students getting out of their seats to yell, and conversations sparked to life around them.

"Now," Cartman said, nearly yelling to be heard, "I'm not saying Wendy is the enemy. I'm saying, is she truly the girl she pretends to be? Or is she actually a lying, cheating, slut?"

Stan could feel his insides turning. He wasn't worried about what Cartman was saying, Wendy was tough, but he didn't like the idea of that world class asshole saying that kind of stuff about one of the only people who made him feel okay. Worse, when people started believing him, it would only lead to chaos.

Bebe leaned across Clyde. "Don't worry, Wendy will tear him apart in her speech."

Bebe winked at him, and went back to her boyfriend.

Stan hoped she was right.

* * *

Wendy watched from behind the curtain as Cartman gave his speech. Every now and then as he emphasized how much of a whore Wendy was, he would look towards her with a malicious grin. Wendy pulled out a compact mirror and touched up her eyeliner. A girl going into battle had to look her best, and if Cartman was going to play dirty, fine. She wouldn't pull any punches either.

Cartman closed his speech with a final question. "Ask yourselves, do I really want Wendy Testaburger in office?"

He received surprising support. A good portion of the school clapped enthusiastically, drawn in by Cartman's speech and eating every word. From the rest he received a courtesy clap.

Wendy felt confident.

Cartman stepped away from the podium and walked off the stage. Wendy watched him go. He turned around and caught her eye, mouthing something she was sure was rude, but chose to ignore.

The crowd died down, and Wendy took a deep breath. Now or never. How hard could it be?

She walked out onto the stage, towards the podium, incredibly aware of the sound of her heels against the floor.

She got to the podium, lowered the mic slightly, and looked out towards the crowd. She could make out the wild curly blonde hair of her best friend Bebe, and just a couple seats over, Stan.

She smiled, and though he'd never be able to tell with all the people around, it was just for him.

"Hello everyone. And thank you, Cartman, for that lovely introduction." Snickers ran through the crowd and Wendy gave a slight internal cheer. She had the crowd on her side. "But now that were done with that, as entertaining as it was, I think it's time we start talking about the facts.

"The fact is, I have the highest grade point average in this school, a history of leadership service, and I am willing to help you succeed, and isn't that more important than listening to Cartman spew his lies?"

* * *

Truth of the matter was, Wendy's speech was a little dry, but it was obvious she had the support of every girl in the audience. In fact, she had the support of quite a few of the boys too. It helped that she was gorgeous, and the way she smiled as she looked around the room made the audience quiver with anticipation.

Stan would be surprised if she didn't win.

"What'd I miss?" someone whispered.

Stan whipped around. Kenny settled into the seat behind him, eyes glued to the stage.

Stan hadn't really spoken to Kenny since he go there, but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that the other boy would take a seat by him. Besides Kyle the only other people he seemed to talk to were Kevin and Tammy, and while he didn't know where Tammy was, Kevin had been called away that morning by his sport sword coach.

"Just Cartman trashing Wendy," Clyde answered.

Oh right. Stan had forgotten those two shared a class, and as Kenny waved to someone a few rows over it sunk in that the other boy was far more popular than Stan originally recalled.

Kenny turned back to the stage.

"Hope Kyle can pull this off," he muttered.

Stan wanted to say the same, but he'd have been lying if he said he didn't support Wendy whole heartedly.

"Thank you," Wendy said, finishing her speech. The crowd cheered, and clapped politely, and Wendy smiled before stepping away from the podium and descending the stage. Bebe jumped up, dragging Clyde with her.

"Let's go," Kenny said, and Stan and he followed them to meet Wendy in the aisle.

When they finally caught up, Bebe had Wendy in a bone crushing hug and they were speaking in hushed voices. Wendy caught sight of Stan and pulled away from Bebe to go talk to him.

"What did you think?" she asked.

He smiled, or tried to. "It was good. You looked good."

She grinned. "Why thank you."

He blushed a little, trying not to feel nervous (he would not puke he would not puke he would not puke).

"So," Wendy said, "as president, it will be important for me to keep up appearances," she said, and Stan just nodded like he knew where she was going with this, "Part of that will be watching what I wear, and say, but I was also thinking, you know, it wouldn't hurt to have someone else, by my side… after all, as president, there are very few people who could properly be my boyfriend. They'd need to be smart, and good looking and the quarterback, maybe?"

Stan could feel his throat drying up, and his head going light. He was so busy concentrating on his own shoes and inability to form sentences that he completely missed Wendy's nervous fidgeting and shy smile.

"I see," he said, voice shaky.

"So, what I really meant to say, was," and now Wendy was looking anywhere but him, like she was uncertain. She was never uncertain. "I think you, if you want, we should meet up. For a talk, maybe? Or lunch?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing would come out, and he ended up nodding too fast, making his vision swim.

"C'mon, Kyle's about to go on," Kenny said, and Stan was pulled away from Wendy and dragged back towards the chairs before he could even ask her when.

* * *

Kyle stepped onto the stage, feeling raw and completely unprepared. He was Kyle Broflovski, the guy who planned every conversation before it happened, and organized his closet by day of the week. He hadn't put nearly enough time into his speech. He wasn't ready.

His feet moved on autopilot, carrying him to the podium. Still feeling numb, and terrified, and a little angry at himself, he adjusted the mic without thinking, and opened his mouth.

"Hi," he said.

There was a conglomeration of hellos thrown back at him, and Kyle didn't even have time to chastise himself for going right off script before he was talking again.

"I'm Kyle Broflovski. Most of you probably only know me as the smart kid who sits in the back and doesn't talk to anyone," he said.

He got a few chuckles on that, but no one seemed sure of where he was going with this. He didn't quite know himself.

He took a deep breath. Part of him wanted to run back to his script, and recite a pretty, pre-worded piece about student relations and teaching practices. But Kenny had been right. He had to do this.

"I'm running for student body president against Wendy and Cartman, who are two of the most, well, brutal competitors I've ever had. But I'd like to tell you a little bit about myself today." And here the plan came in. Last night Kenny and him had had a long talk, and had decided that to win against Cartman and Wendy he had to do what they would never do: be completely totally honest. So that was what he was going to do, even if he did feel ready for the ground to open up and swallow him. "I came to SAKI when I was in sixth grade. I did something really incredibly stupid, and it ruined any chance I had of redeeming myself, academically, and with the people close to me. So when I got the chance to come here, to a place where no one knew me, I took it. I've been here pretty much my entire life. I love this place like it's my home, because, right now, it kind of is. My mom, she pretty much kicked me out. Like a lot of you, life wasn't exactly easy for me before I got here. But being here, for the past almost five years has done a lot for me. It used to be I didn't really like school. Hated it actually. And now I'm in the top three of my class. Recently, I met a kid who reminded me how important this school is to me. And I'm sure it's important to a lot of you as well. I mean, without this place, I could be in juvie. I'd really like to do something for this school, to give back, for everything it's done for me. I'm not sure if I'm smarter than Wendy, or any of that, but I want to do something for this school. That's why I want this presidency. So if you think I deserve that honor, please, cast your vote. Thank you." Kyle finished with a nervous chuckle, and stepped away from the podium. The crowd erupted.

* * *

Until the moment he stepped onto the stage Wendy had disregarded Kyle as competition. He was too awkward, too honest for politics. And the crowd loved him. He'd turned his weakness to his advantage and Wendy could only gape.

He'd done it. Kyle had done it. He'd won the crowd over completely. They loved him and his bashful boy who worked his way up from the bottom routine. He'd played the sympathy card perfectly. God. And even she had to admit it was convincing. She certainly couldn't have said those things and meant them the way he had. And she knew from the little history she had on the school this place gave out scholarships like crazy. There were probably a lot of kids in the crowd who could relate.

Now what would she do?

"I didn't know his mom kicked him out," Bebe whispered from the seat next to her.

Kenny leaned forward, "His mom and him, they have problems?"

Bebe nodded, "Last Visiting Day she went on this tirade. I've never seen anyone so mad."

Kenny looked shocked by this, and Wendy realized how little Kyle must have told him about his life before SAKI.

"Why don't you ask him about it yourself?" Wendy said.

Right on cue Kyle came down the aisle and grabbed the empty seat next to Kenny behind Stan.

On stage, Mr. Kim stepped out from behind the curtain. "Thank you all for those wonderful speeches. It will certainly give us something to think about in the coming weeks, I think. Now, I'm sure no one wished to be held here any longer. You are all dismissed.

The lights came on.

Everyone moved at once, no one really wanting to hand around. Students flooded out of the auditorium in masses, shouting over each other to be heard, everyone wanting to talk about the election.

"Testaburger,"

Wendy turned to see Cartman pushing through the crowds and groaned inwardly.

"We have to talk," he shouted.

* * *

"What you are suggesting is cheating," Wendy said. She and Cartman were hiding in a shadowed corner of the auditorium, speaking in hushed voices as the last students trickled out. "And what do you have to gain from this?"

"Oh please, you know as well as I that as long as he's in this race we don't stand a chance. Obviously the Jew rat needs to drop out. Wendy, you've worked for this all your life, are you really going to stop now?"

"I can't do that to Kyle."

Oh but she could. If she could get him to drop out of the race it would just be her and Cartman, and she felt confident she could take the boy on and come out on top.

"You think you'll win," she said.

"Of course I will."

"Unless Kyle takes your votes."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Cartman scowled and looked away.

"Fuck you Wendy. But you know I'm right."

No. He couldn't be. And she wouldn't be caught dead doing such a thing. She was the top of her class, she was above such matters and petty acts? Wasn't she? Maybe just a talk, after all, talking wasn't exactly cheating. Maybe she'd just run the idea by him, after all, wouldn't she and Kyle split the vote? Then Cartman would win and no one wanted that and then—

* * *

"Kyle, we need to talk."

Kyle looked up from his laptop with big green eyes and Wendy winced inwardly.

"What's up Wendy?"

"We need to talk about the election."

And really, Wendy figured, this wasn't cheating. Not really. All was fair in love and war after all.

* * *

**I published this a little earlier than I normally do as an apology for the slow updates, so there may be typos, but I always read through my posted chapters, so I'll fix those as soon as I catch them.**

**This is a chapter that I've had planned since day one, so it feels good to finally write it. It was especially weird because I didn't write in Kenny POV once, which feels wrong somehow.**

**In other news I lost my USB drive, and therefore the Spartan story I'd been working on may be halted for quite a while (thankfully I do all my outlines and character stuff in notebooks so everything, including SAKI is safe, I just may not update as quickly).**

**Next chapter is Craig POV yay!**

**Anyways, feedback welcome :)**

**~Lily**


	11. Chapter 11: Craig Tucker

Chapter 11

Craig liked to think he was pretty good at the people thing. No, he wasn't social. And most people thought he was terrifying. And he wasn't friendly either. In fact. He wasn't much of anything. But, when it came to people Craig could, for the most part, figure them out.

The truth was, most people weren't all that complicated. They all wanted the same things. To be liked, to be smart, to be special. People were just simple that way. And for the most part Craig didn't mind. If everyone was complicated it would probably just give him a headache, because as much as Craig didn't like people, he also had the awful habit of spending agonizing hours trying to figure out how they worked. Something about their utter idiocy drove him insane until he could figure out why, exactly, Bebe would date Clyde when it was obvious she didn't even like him.

But fortunately most people weren't complicated, even if it was hard to tell at first. Craig himself was a simple guy. He lived a simple life with a simple family and simple friends. He did go to the greatest school in the country, but he was pretty sure that his parents could care less if it weren't for the fact it got him out of the house. He never overcomplicated anything, or went out of his way to help or hurt anyone.

Yes, occasionally he said some rather harsh things, but the truth was he just didn't see the point in lying, and if he thought someone was fucking moron he would say so. If it came up. Which it often did.

So, in all, Craig really didn't think he was special, or that life was about to become complicated in any way shape or form. So, of course, a complication just waltzed into the classroom to slap him in the face with his naiveté.

"Hey, Craig Tucker," Kevin Stoley said, grinning. He was dressed in one of those ridiculous Japanese dress things, with a sword slung over his shoulder, completely ignoring the baffled Mr. Brown who had been trying to give an English lesson.

Craig had figured out Kevin almost on sight. The kid was Chinese, with a tiger mother. To make it worse, the kid failed miserably in all school subjects, and had fallen irrefutably in love with Japanese sword fighting. Craig knew from Powder (the only reasonable girl in the entire school) that Kevin had had to hide his swords in Kyle's room last year when his mother dropped in on a surprise visit.

But Craig gave none of this away as he tried his best to ignore Kevin completely.

"Craig," Kevin said again in a sing song voice, "Come on, Garret wants to see us."

Garret had been another easy one. Retired Navy Seal. Enough said.

"Mr. Tucker, would you please accompany Mr. Stoley," Mr. Brown said, and one look told Craig if he didn't listen Mr. Brown would bury him in enough homework to make him wish he had.

So Craig got up and followed Kevin.

* * *

Craig had never been to Garret's office before. Garret had been his gym teacher freshman year, but beyond that he rarely saw the guy. He wondered what someone had had to tell him to make him call Craig personally.

The office was in the basement, where wood floors gave way to tile and florescent lighting. It was disorienting, like stepping from a mansion to an office building. When they came to the door Kevin knocked.

"Come in," Garret's gruff voice answered.

The room was small and square. Garret sat behind a desk, and behind him, lining the wall, were a series of screens that looked like security camera feeds. On one side of the room a man, Yates, head of security, Craig remembered, was standing, silently surveying them. A boy already sat in one of several chairs across from Garret's broad desk. He was tiny for a teenager, with wild blonde hair, brown eyes, and a disheveled appearance that made it look like he didn't know how to dress himself.

Craig and Kevin took their seats on either side of the other boy. Garret grabbed a stack of papers from the edge of his desk, straightened them, and met each of their eyes.

"You three. Welcome. Do any of you know why you are here?"

They shook their heads.

"I'm here on behalf of Mr. Kim."

"Oh Jesus," the blonde muttered. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

"Don't worry Tweek, it's not bad," Garret said fondly.

Tweek looked far from reassured.

"To put it simply, you three have demonstrated skills that could be of use to us," Garret said.

"Who's us?" Kevin asked. His face was carefully composed, weird for the fun loving boy, and Craig wondered it was part of his sword training.

"Us. This institute." Garret said, gesturing around himself.

"SAKI? The school."

"We are much more than a school. And we want you to come work for us."

Well that wasn't what Craig was expecting. He looked to the other too. Tweek seemed equally surprised, but Kevin wore a carefully blank face.

"I am asking you to join a program at this school that would train you to take high security positions in this institution. Your classes would become secondary to this program, which can be thought of much like a part time job. If you accept, your tuition fee will be covered, and you will receive a small sum of spending money at the end of every month. All you have to do is sign these."

He pulled a stack of papers off of his desk. "So what do you say?"

"Why us?"

Mr. Garret smiled like he was in on a joke they weren't. "These selection were not made lightly, and take into account which students had the best score in my class and who I believe will benefit working with each other. We are offering you a job as a part of school staff. Over time, others may join you, but I cannot release any more information until you sign the contract."

"And what does the contract mean, exactly?"

"Work for us, only for us, tell no one of your status with us, and abide by all our conditions. Can you do that?"

"Is this reversible? Can I back out?"

Garret's smile grew. "No."

Craig looked over at the other two. Tweek looked like he was trying very hard not to have a silent melt down, but Kevin just reached for the papers.

"Of course sir, I would be honored," Kevin said.

He grabbed the papers and pen and signed.

Craig hesitated. He really had no reason not to, but he was never involved in this kind of stuff. This kind of weirdness always happened to Dorm E. And this was way more than weird. He was seventeen, how was he supposed to know if he wanted this job? Let alone to do it for the rest of his life. Sure he didn't have much of a plan. He was here on scholarship like a lot of kids. He'd probably end up working at some gas station, maybe get a nice easy office job.

Tweek was the next to sign, practically jumping out of his skin when Kevin handed him the pen, and letting out an involuntary shriek.

Definitely a little odd, that one.

Finally the pen passed to him. He hesitated.

"Craig?" Mr. Garret asked. The man was watching Craig closely.

Craig scanned through the contract, skimming the main points, reading the fine print fully. Garret seemed to be telling the truth. This contract was a job for life kind of deal.

"Do you have plans for after high school Craig?"

Craig looked up, and the confusion must have been visible.

"College? A job? A career? I've seen your grades. Average at best, and you dropped football last quarter. You're graduating next year and you have nothing to fall back on. You're covered by scholarship only through high school. Take this job, and we can send you to any university in the country free of charge, and all you have to do it work for us."

Garret made a good point. He made a lot of good points actually.

Craig looked over to where the nervous Tweek was watching him expectantly. If crazy could do it, couldn't he? He though back to his home town, to how life had been before. What did he have to lose?

He signed on the dotted line.

* * *

"Welcome to your first walk through of the facilities," Garret said, leading them down the hall. "to the left and right are the bunks, where our security personnel sleep, and your home after you graduate. My office, the monitoring center, and Freya's station are the only rooms with access to surveillance footage. The monitoring center is our main work station, and is right down this way."

They reached the end of the hall, and glass double doors opened automatically onto a round metal deck raised above the rest of the room. It was a lot like being on stage, and below them, in the pit, rows of desks, computers, and conference tables were scattered around in between camera feeds. On the wall directly ahead of them was a projector screen.

"This is the nest." Garret said, gesturing to the platform. "Frey and I work the nest, you three will probably work the pit. Normally teams are assigned, but you three are a special case. You're being trained to eventually take over the force, and will be working independently from our regular forces. There are roughly two hundred who work with us, and of them you will get your orders from four. Ms. Freya and Kyle Broflovski."

Craig had been taking it all in, fascinated by the sheer noise that echoed across the pit as people shouted at each other, set computers off, and held meetings all in the open air. He whipped around.

"Broflovski?"

Garret didn't seem to understand how preposterous the idea was. He just nodded. "Kyle Broflovski's future has already been decided by this institute. The information, is, however, classified, and Broflovski is, under no condition, to be told. That does not change the fact he is now your superior, and all orders from him should be considered legitimate."

Craig nodded, but he didn't really understand.

"Isn't he running for president?" Tweek asked. His voice was high pitched, like he was an octave away from a scream.

"Something like that," Garret said in the way that people did when they knew something.

"So I take it we're security? From what?' Kevin asked.

"Mr. Kim has enemies. Now some on," Garret turned and walked back towards the glass doors and out of the monitoring room.

Craig looked back at the pit one last time, and followed the others out.

* * *

"We have one last stop," Garret said. They'd gone through a maze of hallways to arrive a door with no discernible handle. "You'll report to here from here on out."

Garret raised his hand to knock, but the door slid open before he could.

"What do you want Garret? I'm busy! We still haven't got the full details on that security breech from last month, not to mention Mr. Kim let one of them just waltz on in and talk to our students. Honestly, the man is going senile."

The room was too dark for Craig to see her, and she was back lit even more by a wall of linked computer screens, but he knew the voice. It was the same one from over the intercom. Freya. She sat in a swivel chair and rolled from one side of the room to another, typing away on a keyboard so fast Craig wondered what she could possibly be doing. She rolled to a stop before him.

"Ah, hello, Craig, it's lovely to see you. And of course, Tweek, and Kevin. Why am I not surprised?" she said, then to Garret, "Are you sure these are the ones? I still think that Donavan is a viable pick, and Christophe…"

"You know who my first choice was."

"Finders, keepers, Garret. Now boys, welcome to the force, from this day forward you get your orders from me."

Kevin raised his hand like they were back in class.

"Yes Kevin?"

"Orders for what, exactly?" Kevin asked.

Craig turned to Freya for her answer. He was curious himself.

"Oh that's what we're here to talk about right now," she leaned forward, serious and quiet, "You were each chosen because you all have skillsets of use to us, be they in combat or other areas. Every generation or so, when we get old and weary, Mr. Kim and the rest of head of staff must chose, how do you say, replacements."

"We're replacing you?" Tweek sounded incredulous.

"Oh no, not me. I already have my affairs in order. You three will be taking the placed of Mr. Garret, Yates, and Harrison respectively. As such, you will begin shadowing them starting now. School is secondary. And you need to be made aware of our current status. SAKI is in a state of emergency. We've had two break ins, one occurred months ago, but only acted up last month, the other walked into our facilities in the guise of a reporter—"

"Wait, you mean that Janice lady?" Kevin said.

"Oh Janice Rice how I loathe her existence." Freya said, "But yes, her."

"And what are we going to do?" Craig asked. He was still reeling from the idea of replacing Garret, but he thought he had a handle on it.

"That's just the thing," Freya said, "For now, there's little we can do but watch, and wait. If a situation occurs, alert someone before you engage, and above all, keep Kyle Broflovski safe."

"Why Kyle?"

"Oh, it's not just him. Stanley Marsh, Kenneth McCormick, but if it ever came down to it, Kyle is who you save first. We're significantly less worried about Kenneth." And the way she said made Craig think there was a lot they weren't telling him, "Any questions?"

He shook his head.

"Good. I'm sure this is a lot to take in. Garret, get them their equipment, and why don't you three take the day off?"

* * *

Somehow Craig had ended up in the café with Tweek, with two duffel bags full of God knew what. He hadn't intended this, but Kevin had run off as soon as Freya let them go, and Garret told them they had no more classes for the day, and to get to know each other, so begrudgingly, Craig had followed Tweek to the café. It was a small place, with a wall of windows and dozens of little tables,

"It's a Dorm C privilege," Tweek told him, in between little spasms and stutters. Craig found the boy strange, but the smell of coffee and pastries was enough to make him hang around and grab a seat with Tweak at the back of the room.

It was a pretty busy place, the café, with a few guys in their mid-twenties running the counter, and students, mostly seniors and college kids hung around. The entrance had been guarded by a guy in dark green, who recognized Tweek, and was probably a Dorm C alumni. Dorm C had had special privileges for as long as Craig could remember. Something to do with their accumulative grade point average. Didn't help that most of them were stars on one sports team or another. Bebe was head of the fashion department, Wendy was running for president, Nicole was a volleyball player or something, and Rebecca was smarter than everyone at the school, except maybe Kyle. All in all, Dorm C was menacing. And they had a wall of trophies to prove it.

If Tweek was in Dorm C, and the way he wove his way through the café, talking to the barista like they were old friends suggested he was, then Craig was surprised he'd never seen him before.

Tweek was something else, Craig decided, when they finally settled in the back of the café, Tweek with a tall cup of black coffee, and Craig with one of the weird muffin things they'd been selling. Tweek kept twitching. No. It was more than that. It was like the boy was incapable of not moving. If it was fiddling with his fingers, tapping his foot, sipping his coffee, he was always just moving. It seemed stressful. And the coffee didn't help with its extra dosage of hyper. Tweek was also perpetually scared, jumping at the slightest sound, eyes darting around the room for an enemy Craig couldn't see. It was both entertaining, and unnerving, and eventually Craig couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't pin this kid down without more to go on.

"Who _are_ you?"

Tweek shrieked and jumped out of his chair. "Jesus Christ man! Don't surprise me like that!"

Craig just watched, nonplussed, and slightly entertained at the ridiculous reaction he'd managed to pull out of the boy.

Tweek ran a shaking hand through his hair, eyes (they weren't just brown, Craig realized, they were coffee brown) darting towards Craig.

"What?"

"Who are you?" Craig repeated.

"T-Tweek Tweak. Dorm C."

Okay, technically it wasn't the weirdest name he'd ever encountered.

Craig knew the way Tweek froze up. It was the same way kids like Melvin froze because they'd heard from a friend of a friend about Craig Tucker, the terrifying bully. It was more annoying than anything.

Tweek nodded, uneasy. "N-nice to meet you."

"So what do you know about Garret?"

Tweek looked around, like he thought one of the older kids absorbed in their laptops would actually bother listening in. Craig waited patiently for Tweek to stop freaking out.

"I um. I don't know man. Why are you asking me? I didn't even know they were going to do that until today!"

Tweek's tendency to yell everything made Craig wince.

"Thought you might know more than I did."

Tweek shrugged and stared down at his coffee.

For a long time they sat there, not saying anything, Craig feeling awkward, and Tweek obviously uncomfortable.

Craig thought this was probably how his interaction with Tweek Tweak would end, and he'd finish his muffin and run back to Dorm F only to never see the other boy again.

Then, to Craig's surprise, Tweek spoke up, "It's weird though. I mean, why pick us?"

"What do you mean?" Craig asked. And he was genuinely interested. He didn't know Garret was going to do what he did until the offer was made. He hadn't had time to analyze, or even really comprehend it.

"Well, I mean, Kevin has his swords, and I box, and everyone knows about you…" he trailed off, waiting for Craig's reaction, and when Craig didn't jump him, continued, "I just wonder what they expect to happen," Tweek stared down into his coffee, looking nervous. "They're out to get us man. I know it."

"You're paranoid."

It wasn't an insult, just an observation on Craig's part, and the way Tweek jumped and looked around didn't help alleviate the idea.

"But, I mean, man, they could be! You don't know!"

"So why did you agree to this then?" Craig asked. Honestly Tweek overreacted way too much. It was both entertaining, and a little disorienting. He wondered how he'd survived this long. He was a walking talking target for any bully in a hundred mile radius.

"Are you kidding? How could I say no? That was way too much pressure! What if my scholarship got cancelled? Or I made them angry? And then they killed me? Oh my God they could have killed me!"

Tweek had a meltdown and Craig watched, amused. But Tweek had made a good point. Of all the kids in school, they hadn't picked the highest GPAs. Though he wondered if Tweek was really a boxer. The kid was as threatening as a bunny.

"Craig?"

Craig turned around, slowly, dreading.

Clyde was standing there. Bebe glued to his side, looking confused, not that that was unusual.

"Clyde," Craig said. "Bitch."

Bebe scowled, but as far as Craig was concerned, she deserved it. She had no right keeping Clyde wrapped around her fingers when everyone knew she could care less.

"Don't call my girl a bitch. What are you even doing here man, I thought only Dorm C…." he trailed off as he caught sight of Tweek, "Oh."

And that was about the moment Craig realized how this must look to everyone else. But, Craig was Craig, and when things got awkward, Craig did what he always did.

He flipped Clyde off.

Clyde chuckled nervously.

"Hey Tweek, where've you been?" and as much as Craig hated her, he would be the first to admit Bebe could handle the most awkward social situation with the grace and tact of a butterfly.

"I, ah—" By now Craig was beginning to be able to spot when Tweek was about to go into one of his panic attacks.

"Garret needed to talk to us," Craig supplied.

Bebe faked an interested look. "Oh?"

"Class stuff," Craig brushed off.

"Oh cool. Well, me and Bebe have to uh, go. And Token says we're watching the Blaire Witch Project on Friday." Clyde said.

Horror movie Fridays. They'd been Craig's idea, though nobody seemed to remember that, and he, as much as he could find his friends annoying, adored them. There was nothing like a horror flick on the weekends with a couple of friends and popcorn, followed by a round of Mario Cart on the Xbox so that Clyde could go to bed without tripping over his own feet and screaming.

"Sounds good." Craig said.

"Right, catch you later. C'mon Bebe," Clyde tugged her away by the hand.

"Bye!" Bebe waved and trialed after Clyde.

Tweek watched them go. "You know Bebe?"

"Yeah. Clyde's my friend."

"You don't like her."

And oddly enough, no one had ever said that to him before. Craig had been accused of being brash, stoic, a bully. But no one had ever put into words the very simple fact Craig didn't like some people. Most people just thought he was being an asshole unreasonably. The very idea that he might have reason behind things seemed to not cross peoples' minds. He looked at Tweek, trying to figure the kid out. He was confusing. So high strung and panicky, but observant. In the two hours he'd known Tweek he'd never been more baffled.

"What?" Tweek asked, beginning to go into one of his panic attacks.

"I'm just trying to figure out how someone like you boxes." Craig said.

Tweek puffed up indignantly. "I'm the best boxer at this school."

Craig raised an eyebrow, and couldn't stop the next words that came out of his mouth. "Prove it."

* * *

Craig should give up. He knew he should give up.

But Craig had some sense of pride, and it refused to let him say he was beat.

Tweek was watching, barely out of breath, in a t-shirt and jeans, with a pair of boxing gloves looking completely disproportionate on his hands. Craig hadn't expected things to quite go this way, but he couldn't complain. Punching the crap out of people in the shady grass of the soccer field behind Dorm C was a pretty good time.

Tweek charged and Craig stumbled back.

So it was less punching the shit out of people, more getting the shit punched out of him. Now Craig understood completely why Tweek boxed. In all honesty it was perfect. Tweek's usual inability to sit still translated well into a fight, making the smaller boy flighty, and impossible to hit. And for someone so small, Tweek was strong.

Suddenly Tweek was in front of him (How did he move so fast?) and two hits later Craig let himself collapse back onto the ground, officially done.

Tweek's head came into view, all wild hair and wide eyes.

"Jesus Christ, are you okay?"

Craig laughed. Actually, he felt pretty good. That had been fun. Better than watching Clyde and Bebe suck face or doing Mr. Brown's homework.

"Craig?"

Craig sat up. He felt a bit dizzy, but otherwise fine.

"Craig? Oh my god, you have a concussion! You're going to die! I—"

"I'm fine."

Tweek didn't look so sure.

"You like horror movies?"

It was a stupid question. Tweek freaked out at the drop of a pin (before they began fighting a bee had flown by and it had taken twenty minutes of half-hearted reassurances to calm the kid down) of course he wouldn't like horror movies.

Tweek nodded.

Of course, Craig chastised himself. It was Tweek, and Tweek was the opposite of everything he assumed.

"We watch horror flicks on Friday. You should come."

Craig left it at that. Nice, and simple. Uncomplicated. Because inside, he knew for sure that things weren't going to stay that way.

* * *

**I'm so incredibly horribly awfully sincerely sorry about how late this was. First the car broke down and then I had two AP tests and an end of course and then I had color guards and then my computer crashed and there was stuff and yeah I'm really sorry so have some Craig.**

**Already working on the next chapter. I actually considered cutting the cafe piece of it out but I've been absent so long that I felt you all deserved extra, even if it felt weird not writing about Kenny for so long.**

**Again very sorry.**

**Love you all.**

**Reviews welcome.**

**~Lily**


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